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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years ago

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Dear Evan Hansen

You may have seen some ~online discourse~ about the film Dear Evan Hansen, an adaptation of the 2016 Broadway musical, and you might have wondered what all the hubbub is about. I mean, it’s a feel good story about a senior in high school, Evan Hansen (Ben Platt), who has some pretty severe anxiety and depression. While trying to fulfill an assignment from his therapist to write a letter to himself, his letter gets picked up by another student, Connor (Colton Ryan) - and later that day, Connor kills himself. Connor’s grieving parents and sister Zoe (Amy Adams, Danny Pino, and Kaitlyn Dever) are desperate to learn more from the boy they think was Connor’s best friend - after all, Connor’s suicide note was a letter addressed to “Dear Evan Hansen.” And, as you can imagine, Evan tells them about the unfortunate mistake and sits with them in their grief as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives.

Just kidding! He lies to them, repeatedly, elaborately, expansively for months, constructing an entire false friendship with Connor that never happened, and ingratiating himself into the wealthy nuclear family he never had, in large part because he wants to get into Zoe’s pants! THIS IS THE PROTAGONIST OF THE STORY. Oh, and it’s a musical so there is a lot of singing and crying and singing WHILE crying and sometimes crying and not singing at all. But the #inspiration, you guys.

Things I liked:

Pretty much everything but the story and Ben Platt’s performance. The supporting cast is stacked, and all of them do a great job at elevating material scraped directly out of a diaper worn by someone who just chewed their way through a copy of the DSM-5.

A couple of the songs are damn catchy - “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found” are standouts for a reason - and here’s the thing, Platt sings them well. But as you’ll discover, there’s a lot more to a movie musical than just singing your part.

Stephen Chbosky, the man behind every deep thought I and a lot of people in my generation had in 2006 after he wrote The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is a pretty good director. I particularly enjoyed the fanvid-type cuts in “Waving Through a Window” in conjunction with the lyrics, and his use of interstitial shots to flashbacks (and sometimes flashforwards!) is a neat little bit of shorthand that I thought was used sparingly enough to be effective.

Amy Fucking Adams. She’s holding on so hard, so desperately to the idea of who her son could have been, rather than the reality of who he was, and she is full of such deep pain that is masked by an almost endless supply of patience with Evan and relentless positivity. All this made me want was Enchanted 2 even worse than I already did.

Super into everything Zoe wears - the costuming department did a great job, and now all I want to do is live in mom jeans and baggy sweaters.

Did I Cry? I teared up a couple of times because I’m not a completely heartless bastard and when Amy Adams offered Evan Connor’s college money, my heart broke for the lie Evan had thrust upon her, and Julianne Moore’s song got me good, because she’s just a single mom to Evan who is doing her goddamn best.

Things I hated more than the time I dropped a frozen gallon container of fruit cocktail on my pinkie toe in my parents’ garage and it turned black and I thought it was gonna fall off:

Ben Platt is 28 years old. He originated the role of Evan Hansen on Broadway, so in many respects it makes sense that he plays the role in the movie, except for the one kinda sorta important thing where he looks like a wizened old crone standing amongst a sea of children doing his best twitching, cringing Hunchback of Notre Dame impression. If you want someone to convincingly play 20 years their junior, hire Paul Rudd. Otherwise, please don’t ask me to believe that this supposed 18-year-old has crow’s feet.

And that twitching nervous energy is a huge part of the black hole at the center of this film - he’s playing to the cheap seats and walking through the halls of his high school like a wet chihuahua. It’s an excruciating acting choice to watch - he doesn’t just have anxiety, he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown seemingly every second of every day. Like honestly, where is only-mentioned-never-seen Dr. Sherman, because this young man’s meds are NOT WORKING DR. SHERMAN.

There’s such a lack of self-awareness on behalf of the writing, directing, and performance by Platt. There’s one song, “Sincerely, Me,” that offers the only glimpse of commentary about what Evan is doing, by pointing out the malicious ridiculousness of him writing a series of fake emails as proof of his and Connor’s friendship.

Also what high schoolers email this much?? I know this was written in probably 2014 or so, but has a bitch never heard of a text? Even a DM? This whole plot is constructed around the premise that high schoolers are just constantly, constantly emailing each other.

Everything - and I mean EV-ER-Y-THING - about Evan’s relationship with Zoe is so creepy and disturbing that with a soundtrack change, this could easily be a horror movie. He attempts to get her to like him by describing to her all the things her brother noticed about her - oh wait, I’m sorry, all the things HE noticed about her while he was skulking in the shadows following her around for years, watching every move she made, and it ends with him singing repeatedly “I LOVE YOU” because following a girl around and never having a conversation with her or knowing her at all is love, right? This was clearly written by the same people who chose “Every Breath You Take” as their wedding song because Sting is hot and they never actually listened to the damn words.

And it gets about 10 billion times worse when Zoe goes to Evan’s house alone, takes him up to his room, and sings “I don’t need reasons to want you” and that was the moment I was that person I hate in a movie theater and I pulled out my phone to Google who wrote the music and lyrics to the musical (we were in the back row of the theater no one was behind me THIS WAS AN OUTRAGE EMERGENCY) and of motherfucking course it was written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, 2 men who heard about meeting an actual human woman from a friend one time but otherwise are unfamiliar with the concept.

Lastly, enormous serial killer vibes from Evan sending unlabeled flash drives anonymously through the mail with no note in an attempt to right his wrongs. That’s not catharsis, that’s how the next installment in the Saw franchise starts, with Evan in a Billy the clown doll mask showing up on the screen and asking if you want to play a fucking game.

Also, I know it’s not possible for the narrative to justify this in a way that could be satisfying based on Evan’s actions, but what is with this thing where single working-class mom Julianne Moore is turning down rich people’s money for Evan to go to college? Like, obviously we can’t have that happen in the movie but in real life, fuck your pride! Take those rich people’s money!

I also know how movies work but nothing annoys me more than a giant group of high schoolers all getting beeps and boops to indicate text notifications all at the same time because I don’t know a single person under the age of 55 who keeps their ringer on. That shit is on vibrate AT MOST, and I feel like that’s a millennial thing.

The emotional climax of the film is obviously Evan’s WAY TOO LATE confession, but the idea that it’s prompted by Connor’s family suddenly getting a lot of internet hate is, frankly, laughable. If Sandy Hook taught me one thing, it is that no tragedy is immune from trolls who live only to cause other people devastating emotional pain on the internet. That shit starts day 1. Apparently no one involved in this production has ever been on Twitter?

Also it feels like there should have been a dog somewhere in this movie and there was no dog, so points off for that too.

Perhaps Dear Evan Hansen isn’t nearly as deep as it aspires to be. Perhaps it’s a morality play, a simplistic message of “Don’t lie, kids, lying is bad!” Major studio movies wrap themselves up with a nice bow at the end so everyone can feel good about themselves and leave with a happy ending, but the moronic cruelty on display here makes that feat feel impossible. We’re left with Evan in an orchard, reading Connor’s favorite books and staring into the big blue sky with all the self-actualization he’s earned now as a lil treat. And if Evan Hansen looked like an actual 18-year-old, it would be a lot easier to extend more empathy to him and his not-fully-developed prefrontal cortex, but it’s a little harder with this fully-grown, weathered man who was old enough to remember seeing Liar Liar in theaters.

Dear Evan Hansen,

Get some actual help and a haircut and maybe you can grow up enough to have an actual healthy interaction with any other living person, ever.

Sincerely,

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen review #dear evan hansen 2021 #ben platt #amy adams #kaitlyn dever #julianne moore #colton ryan #danny pino #movie reviews #film reviews

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642stories · 3 years ago

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Story #7 "David Duchovny"

What can you do in three minutes? In three minutes, you can boil water for tea or eat a banana. You can make a phone call, brush your teeth, or take an extremely quick shower. If you are on the subway, you can hop on the train and travel to the next not-so-far station. Three minutes seem to be just enough. Three minutes might take forever if you’re waiting for an answer from a girl you finally summoned up the courage to ask out. If you’re a defendant in a court waiting for the jury to reach a verdict, three minutes might drag on agonizingly slow. One hundred and eighty seconds of tickling as if a bomb is about to set off. All-in-your-head ticking.

However, if you talk to someone like David Duchovny, a person you were dreaming of having a conversation with, three minutes pass in the blink of an eye. Literally. You blink and then it’s over. David says that they are counting on us, and it is nice to see you again and then he’s gone. You are left with a mixture of euphoria and disappointment but unable to process it at the moment. It’s four in the morning and though you are so tired you cannot see straight, sleep is elusive. Your emotions are too raw to let go and grab so well-needed rest. So instead, you do some writing, keeping in mind what David has just told you - it’s all about discipline. And you write till letters start jumping on the screen and everything gets blurry. And then you brew some more coffee. A real thing. Not that decaffeinated crap you bought on a whim convincing yourself that this is what mindful people do. For they say it��s healthy. Sure. Fine. Whatever.

I got over my Duchovny crush in my early twenties, too busy to lust after anyone but my first-time-ever long-term boyfriend and struggling to major in English and Law simultaneously. Once my puberty was complete, I forgot about “The X-Files”. I didn’t think about David until I turned 33, which was 2018, the year when we moved to Moscow. It was a period of boring days dragging one after another in nothing but taking round-the-clock care of kids. Being acutely aware of my routine existence and suffering from the lack of babysitters, work-related stuff, and English altogether, I tried to fill an expanding void with books and series. I could read up to hundreds of pages a day and binge-watch Netflix every single minute whenever I had free time. It was my sea of tranquillity, and I was literally drowning in it.

I started watching Californication, the series I’d been deliberately neglecting for a little over 10 years (first released in 2007), due to my reluctance to shape Duchovny as anyone else but Fox Mulder. One more year later, I stumbled upon the news, that two more seasons of the X-files had been shot. You are so out of the loop, girl, exactly my thoughts. What are you? Some freak, living off the grid? How could you miss it? For what it’s worth, I loved it.

One day, almost accidentally, driving along the city center, I caught a glimpse of the billboard with his name and the word concert next to it. A concert? What the hell, the guy is an actor! Well, also a novelist now, but what does it have to do with music? Upon my arrival at home, I googled him thoroughly only to be struck by the fact that David indeed was a singer and it wasn’t even his first album. The same day I bought a ticket, including the meet-and-greet session pass, downloaded some of his previous tracks, and just like that, my affection was resurrected.

That first meeting we didn’t really talk. I remember my shy “May I hug you?” and his encouraging coarse “Yeah”. I remember warm strong arms around my shoulders. We took a photo, he sighed whatever it is I had on me to sign. It happened to be a tiny red notebook as nothing else seemed to fit in my lady’s purse. And then, there was an hour of pure bliss as the concert began. He may or may not be a good singer. If truth be told, it’s probably the latter. But he’s full of the heady dark intensity that shakes you to the core and makes the overall experience simply unforgettable. I could only hope that it wouldn’t be the last first time.

But then. Pandemic. It brought several good tidings, albeit being a catastrophe of the world. Virtual interaction is still booming. Back in the day, you either hoped that the flame of your heart would honor your country with a visit, or traveled over the ocean for the slightest chance to get a glimpse of them. Now all you need is broadband and a cell. Well, and some extra bucks on you. Virtual meet and greets, zooming, 1-on-1 calls, livestreams. You can get up to 10 minutes with the celebrity of your choice. At times, you can enter raffles they organize to raise money for charity, and then it’s a chance to win up to half an hour of a private talk. How cool is that?

So, the question posed, is it expensive? You bet. Is it worth it? Every second of it. Will I see him again? Well, I might. But then again, I might not. After all, I’ve already seen him three times. And two out of three I had a chance to talk with him. However, since we’ve already established that it was worth doing, I could only add that anything that is worth doing is worth doing well.

#creative writing #article #david duchovny #x files #txf #californication #fox mulder #writing in english

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years ago

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Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2

Previously on Plus One

It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex.

As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married.

And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst.

It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning.

But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s.

That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke.

And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes.

In a week it’d be over.

And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke.

She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her.

A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art.

Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared.

And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance.

Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday.

And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera.

Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes.

It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut.

But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was.

It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her.

Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?

An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear.

We don’t have to match completely.

We do! Don’t you know how to date?

Not really.

Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was.

I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules.

Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me.

Sounds good to me!

Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.

I’ll be the one at the bar.

I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space.

If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might.

A love story for the ages.

Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried.

But this was it. This was the end.

And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over.

XXXXXXXXXX

The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building.

Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create.

Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk.

Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans.

Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible.

Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see.

And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going.

For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent.

“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie.

“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”

Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side.

“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her.

“I do. They’re romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”

“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.”

“But there are peanuts.”

That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little.

“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.”

“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.”

Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period.

“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.”

With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt.

Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade.

“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”

“And yet you let me get us both coffee.”

“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.”

With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort.

“Are you ready to tell me the story?”

“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment.

“How we met.”

“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”

“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.”

“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.”

“Sounds pretty likely.”

“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.”

“Why do I have to be the angry one?”

“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.

“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously.

“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.”

“And when was this?”

“About eight months ago.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.”

Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story.

“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?”

“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”

“But is it that easy?”

To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was.

“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.”

“How?”

“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.”

“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out.

“I think you can be.”

“That’s probably too kind.”

“We’ll see.”

Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat.

It was right there, they just didn’t know it.

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platypanthewriter · 3 years ago

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Lazerbeamy Strongman

Day One of Harringrove AUgust, prompt: Superhero AU

Steve Harrington, newly hired reporter and resident Wholesome Nice Guy, kept sidling over to Billy’s desk to read his interview questions. It was hard enough coming up with questions for a superhero who could fly, hold up falling skyscrapers, and shoot lasers from his eyes. The memory of the pulse of blue light blowing out the engine block of the armed robber’s getaway car made Billy shudder.

‘Are the lasers under complete control,’ he typed. ‘Could you be startled into vaporizing the city?’

Directly behind his chair, Harrington snorted a laugh.

“Shut up, Hawkins Indiana,” Billy told him.

Harrington didn’t move.

“Cut this shit out, or I’m squirting you with a bottle,” Billy told him, through a bite of ham’n’rye sandwich. “You keep climbing all up in my business, you’re gonna get Lysol between the eyes.”

“Sorry,” Harrington said, looking abashed, but his eyes still strayed to Billy’s screen, and Billy grabbed the Lysol, spraying a whole cloud as Steve dove back to his own desk. He ducked his head as the editor of the Planet walked by.

A few hours later, Billy caught him staring at the list of questions again, from way too far away, really—it wasn’t like Harrington could actually read Billy’s screen from the coffee machine, but he looked suspiciously intent, so Billy stalked over.

“Can you see my questions from there?! Are those huge nerd frames telescopic, or—just—what the fuck, dude,” he muttered, squinting over at his desk. He could make out that Microsoft Word was open, maybe. Maybe. “How the hell,” Billy growled, turning his glower on Harrington, who stared innocently out the window, sipping his coffee.

“How could I possibly,” Harrington said, not meeting Billy’s eyes as he drank the last of his mug of coffee, and Billy took the last of the coffee in the pot just to spite him, and stalked off.

Ten minutes later, he scooted his chair back and hit Harrington’s jeans with his elbow, and Harrington stumbled back, like he hadn’t been reading over Billy’s shoulder. “Are you a fucking cat?!” Billy hissed. “I’m gonna get one of those invisible fences and shock you every time you try to sneak my interview questions—”

“You’re better at interviews than me,” Steve told him, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck in the annoyingly ‘aw, shucks’ way Billy was fairly sure couldn’t be sincere. “Just interested.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna have the opportunity to use these questions again,” Billy said drily. “Unless you’re gonna ask the next CEO you write up which planet he’s from, and how his clothes don’t burn off when he pulls people out of burning buildings.”

Harrington shrugged, grinning. “Um, I was actually gonna ask, what are you doing tonight? After wor—”

“Staking out the roof of the police department,” Billy told him, walking away to his desk—backwards, so he could yell. “He keeps leaving criminals up there. With notes! Thirty-percent higher chance on Friday nights!”

When the spandex-clad hero landed, cape aflutter, Billy leapt out. “To whom am I speaking?” he asked, in a breathless but calm professional voice.

“Just a moment, citizen,” said the hero, running his fingers through his hair and winking at Billy, and it was the first time he’d seemed like a real person, albeit a pickup artist, and not a comic book cliche.

He bent to handcuff three unconscious bruisers to the roof, prodding a muscled, fishnet-stockinged leg back towards the woman it belonged to. “Ah,” he said, when he stood back up, his hands on his hips like he’d practiced his dumb hero pose in the mirror. “I must go! Crime never waits!”

“What the hell,” Billy shouted after him, waving his notepad.

The next morning, Harrington looked smug. “How’d it go?” he asked, like he knew, and Billy sat on the asshole’s desk and drank, in turn, from both mugs of coffee. “Hey, isn’t that one mine?!” Harrington asked, and Billy stuck his tongue in it, swishing it around.

“Not anymore,” he said sweetly, and Harrington stared at him. “And it went great, obviously. He totally listened to his public and didn’t just fly off after acting like a shithead.”

“Wait, what’d he do?!” Harrington yelped, staring. “I—I read he, uh, he brought in the leaders of three different gangs!”

“Yeah, like a shithead,” Billy repeated, draining Harrington’s favorite mug, licking it, and handing it to him, empty. “And I froze my nuts off for four hours waiting for him to come back. That’s how it went. Shithead.”

“Oh,” Harrington said, frowning into his empty mug, as Billy wandered back to his desk with his own, ignoring Harrington’s mumbled “I mean, maybe—maybe he’s got to keep, like, his identity secret—”

“I didn’t ask for his goddamn alter ego, I was asking general shit,” Billy shot back, growling, and waving the hand without coffee in it. “Or I was going to!”

The next time Billy saw the shithead, he ran straight at him, dodging the falling debris, until abruptly he was flying.

“What are you doing,” the shithead hissed, his arms warm and strong as they carried Billy to the top of another damn building. “We’re under fire.”

“That’s your job,” Billy hissed at him. “My job is this damn interview. What kinds of disasters are you most likely to help with? Does Search and Rescue have your number?”

“Stay here,” the shithead commanded, and flew off, leaving Billy stranded on the top of a skyscraper. He spent the next hour trying to pinpoint the name of the building on Google Maps, before finally finding a number to call to let him in.

“I heard you ran right into the wreckage,” said Harrington, like he was worried, and Billy scoffed.

“I’ve worked warzones,” he said. “I can handle a car accident.”

“The viaduct collapsed,” Harrington said weakly, like a coward. “You were almost crushed by a flaming bus.”

“I also didn’t get even one question answered,” Billy muttered, glaring at the list on his screen, and Harrington stared from him to it. “I’m gonna have to grappling hook that shithead.”

“Um,” Harrington said, wincing. “He seems kind of...busy, usually, when he’s—”

“So am I,” Billy told him, reaching up and prodding his coworker’s shoulder. “I have won Pulitzers, I have better shit to do than spend my nights shouting questions at some shithead who can’t be assed to tell anyone his name, let alone answer some basic peace-of-mind questions like—” he made air quotes, “—‘to what degree do you feel obligated to help humanity?’”

“He’s kind of new,” Harrington said, wincing. “Maybe he doesn’t have, a um, a super...name, yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to say, like, ‘hello, good citizen, I am Lazerbeamy Strongman’—”

“Oh jesus,” Billy snorted, choking on his coffee.

“Hello, I’m Captain Awesomesauce,” Harrington groaned, his cheeks red for some reason. “I’m Rad-Dude.”

“Oh fuck me,” Billy coughed out, cackling. “So you’re saying he’s a moron.”

“I did not,” Harrington huffed, and Billy grinned at him.

“Are you a fan, Harrington? I saw you run right over to look at the latest pictures of him. That why you’re trying to edge in on my interview?”

“No!” Harrington groaned, rolling his eyes. “I just think you put all this...thought into this, and maybe he’s just helping out, you know, like anybody. Like if somebody calls the police on a purse snatcher, you don’t ask them why, or like, how much help they’re gonna be in future—”

“He wears a cape,” Billy pointed out. “He put a goddamn cape on, and he’s wearing some kind of themed onesie, and he says stuff like ‘Hello, innocent bystander,’ and that’s all weird as hell, so he better answer some questions. This isn’t somebody who was just there—he came on purpose, and he doesn’t want people to know who he is, or he’d talk to me—”

“Heroes wear capes!” Harrington argued, rolling his eyes again. “Maybe it’s a little creepy when you ambush people. On the roof of the police station.”

“We gotta call him something,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “He can answer my questions, or he can have every investigator in three cities trying to figure out his angle. He’ll be a police file five inches thick by this weekend.”

“Oh no,” Harrington said, wide-eyed, and Billy snorted.

“The hell d’you care?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You think he’s a moron who calls himself Lazerbeamy Strongman.”

“No,” Harrington said quickly, grimacing. “No, I just, uh. It’d...it’d suck if he’s just...trying to help.”

“If he’s just trying to help, he can give me something reassuring to publish, even if it’s just that he’s calling himself ‘Mr. Neato McCheeto’. People need to hear that he’s not going to use those laser eyes to shoot planes out of the sky.”

“Fuck you, he’s helping,” Harrington said sullenly, covering a snicker.

When Billy left for lunch, he bought the guy one of the badly painted caped bobbleheads already circulating the city, and left it on his desk.

“Oh no,” he heard Harrington say in horrified tones when he found it.

The third time Billy caught the new superhero, he was flying everyone to the tops of buildings. “Oh, fuck you,” Billy groaned, his body held in strong arms while his hands investigated the texture of the cape.

“She turned the ground into actual lava,” the shithead hissed at him. “I’ll get you down when you can walk without turning into a pillar of flame.”

“You better be back within the hour, or I will step off the edge,” Billy threatened, and the shithead groaned. “What’s your cape made of?” Billy yelled after him.

“I’ll come get you,” the shithead yelled back, and Billy sat down to wait, and write some preliminary scene setting. Metropolis’ newest hero shuffles a street of pedestrians onto the roofs of buildings in under a minute, before emptying the cars. Below him, Shithead was dodging around, trying to talk to the small child waving a wand and spraying lava.

Shithead did reappear, though, within the hour. He wasn’t even panting or sweating, and Billy eyed him with extreme dislike. He took the other people down, and Billy yelled threats after him, fully expecting to get stranded again, but Shithead flew back up and floated in front of him, his arms folded like Billy was supposed to be impressed.

“I’ll answer your questions,” he muttered, glowering.

“What’s your name,” Billy asked, wasting no time, because the wind on the skyscraper was sliding through his coat like he was naked. He shivered, turtling deeper into his scarf, and Shithead reached out, his hand twitching towards Billy.

“We—I can take you somewhere else? Somewhere warmer,” he offered awkwardly.

“Somewhere there’s coffee,” Billy growled, and the shithead laughed, grinning at him, and then stepped close to lift Billy again, but didn’t do it.

He just stood so close Billy could feel him breathing, holding his arms up like a scarecrow, and Billy groaned and turned to put his arms around the neck of a goddamn superhero and got scooped up like he was a damsel in distress. He sighed, disgusted, as Shithead took them back to the Daily Planet, dropped down past the roof, and landed them on the glassed-in balcony where Billy went when it was a choice between 1) smoke or 2) commit homicide.

Billy stared. “Have you been watching me,” he hissed, and the damn hero raised his hands.

“There’s coffee here,” he said, grimacing, and Billy stalked past him, by Harrington’s desk—the slacker was missing, and Billy snorted dismissively, and then remembered not everyone had had a ride back through the freezing wind. He shivered so hard as he poured the coffee he nearly spilled it, and whispered a brief prayer to Saint Drogo, patron saint of coffee and the insane, for his intervention in saving Billy’s water of life. The first sip told him it had been sitting on the burner, and his tongue curled in his mouth, his nose wrinkling, but he could feel it warming his veins and brain.

Shithead was still waiting on the balcony, frowning out over the city, and Billy watched him, taking another sip of the acrid coffee.

“Why d’you float like that,” he asked, and the weirdo blinked at him.

“Oh, um,” he said, frowning down, and reddening. “Uh, is this...on the record?”

“...not if you say it isn’t,” Billy said, leaning back into a creaky plastic chair, and putting his feet up on another.

“This outfit is sturdy enough to not burn up, but the feet get dirty if I walk,” Shithead said, grimacing.

“Your footie pajamas get dirty if you walk outside,” Billy said flatly, sighing. “This is an amazing start. On the record now—what’s your name, hero?”

“Oh! Ummm,” he said, wincing.

“Christ,” Billy groaned, pinching his brows together.

“"I'm...very...strong...ness..." the moron trailed off, and Billy stared at him.

“Try again,” he said.

“My sidekick—”

“You have a sidekick,” Billy interrupted, holding his pen up. “Nobody’s seen a sidekick.”

“He tells me when things happen, so I can help. He doesn’t go out there,” Shithead said, looking horrified, and for once sounding reasonable.

“Ah. Carry on,” Billy said, writing sidekick?? in the margin to address later.

“He thinks I should go by Encyc—oh, no,” he slapped a fist into his hand in realization, “It was Atlas,” the unnamed hero said, and Billy narrowed his eyes.

“Fair enough,” he said, about to ask why that didn’t out-rate ‘Very Strongness’, but the shithead crossed his arms with a huff.

“It makes no sense, I’m not a book,” he said, and Billy stared at him.

“You’re exactly the moron he thought you were,” he said disbelievingly. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! I—I just—I saved you from lava,” Shithead protested. “I saved you from a falling bus!”

“We gotta workshop this,” Billy said, groaning into his hands. “I’ll help you, because you did do all those things. And more to the point, I can’t make every news agent in the city say something that stupid every time you’re in the news.”

“What about Superguy,” the hero asked, leaning in enthusiastically. “Great...dude? Mister Awesome!”

“Fuck my life,” Billy sighed, laughing in despair. “What about something based on your powers—”

“Muscle-lasers! Musclasers?” the idiot suggested excitedly, and Billy smacked himself in the face again.

“What about just like...Knight Errant. You’ve got that kind of...shield shape on your chest—”

“Oooo,” Shithead said, floating closer, and Billy put a foot up and nudged him further away. “Because just Knight could get confusing, huh, like on the radio,” he said, and Billy wondered whether he did have a brain, and it just shorted out, like, most of the time. Maybe it was the lasers.

“D’you want to see the sunset,” Knight Errant asked, and Billy blinked at him. “You’re off work, right? I promise I won’t run, I’ll answer your questions,” he said, grimacing. “But...do you? The sunset over the city?”

As a career reporter in Metropolis, Billy could hardly refuse, and he tried to remind his libido of that while he lay cradled in strong arms, warm against Knight Errant’s chest, watching the sun set and the lights come on all over his city.

He was close enough to hear the hero’s stomach growl, and they got sandwiches from a street cart to chomp on during the interview. After that, Knight Errant flew them to a small loft apartment on the edge of the industrial district, and Billy wandered around trying the faucets, fascinated by how normal it all was.

“My apartment’s off the record, right?” Knight Errant asked, with belated nervousness.

“Yeah, sure,” Billy laughed. “I protect my sources. So. You...get hungry?” Billy asked, watching him put away enough food for four people.

“I’m just a person,” Knight Errant muttered, wiping mustard off his chin. He’d taken his cape off, and pushed the onesie down to his waist. In the dim light of the city, he looked familiar, though Billy couldn’t place him—and attractive, the shadows on his abs and arms making him look like he’d been painted in chiaroscuro.

It felt like a date, was the thing.

“Search and rescue does have my number, or a way to get ahold of me, anyway.” Knight Errant sighed. “There’s nowhere in the outfit for a phone. I mean, it’d melt, anyway, first time I flew into a burning building,” he pointed out, and Billy nodded slowly, talking to a hero about his revealing costume, and wondering whether he’d been sucked into the Twilight Zone.

“There sure isn’t anywhere to hide anything,” he agreed, remembering.

“Sometimes I don’t help them,” Knight Errant confessed. “—but I can’t—I help where I can. I have to sleep too.”

“You sleep?” Billy asked, cocking his head at the shadowy king-sized bed in the corner. He wondered whether the moron had different-patterned footie pajamas to sleep in, possibly with sheep on them. And a woolly sheep cape.

“I sleep. I have a job,” the man sighed.

“Thanks for saving me from the lava,” Billy said, belatedly. “And I...probably would’ve been crushed by that bus.”

“Anytime,” the hero of Billy’s city said, stepping close with a grin. “You have to be more careful. I’d hate to lose my favorite reporter.”

“You talk to all the others already?” Billy asked, laughing, his heart pounding as he stepped closer.

“Nah. I know it’ll always be you,” the moron said, grinning with an incomprehensible mixture of mischief and sweetness, and Billy kissed him.

The next morning, Billy hitched a ride to work in the arms of his superhero. He took the time to straighten his jacket and tie after the wind, and found Harrington at his desk, holding a mug of coffee, his eyes huge and weird in the absurdly thick glasses.

“Had a good night?” he asked, smugly, and Billy shot him a suspicious glare, and flipped him off.

Here’s the rest of my Harringrove (and everything else)

#Harringrove #Harringrove AUgust #Superhero AU #SPread the word y'all #There's a Harringrove August collection on Ao3 #Put your rad stuff in it!

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cherrehx · 4 years ago

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okay so its 2am right now and I just thought of something really cute hhhh, so basically, how would kaminari, kirishima, todoroki and bakugou react to finding ship art or something of them and their crush?? I love your writing btw, it's so awesome 💕💕

super long wait, i know. half of this was written when bnha was still my hyperfixation, hence why it's one shots. the headcanons were written now, because i felt bad leaving out denki and eijirou. -cherry

katsuki bakugō:

it was just after nine in the afternoon. katsuki had already gone to sleep as per usual, though tonight he was rudely interrupted by loud knocking on his room's door.

"the hell do you want, loser?!", he shouted, still unsure of who was even at his door. everyone knew by now not to disturb him, so who dared to do so anyways?

getting out of bed and proceeding to open the door, the ash blond was slightly less angered when he saw eijirou standing there. said red head looked frantic because of something. bakugou honestly didn't even want to know what had got him so distraught, but he knew he wouldn't get his well deserved sleep otherwise,

"spit it out, shitty hair."

"we were looking at pictures from the sports festival online and we found something that you should maybe see for yourself!", eijirou started, realizing that he wasn't getting his friend's attention, so he added, "it's about you and (y/n)!"

kirishima was the only one that knew about bakugou's secret crush on you. that's why he wasn't laughing like everyone else in the common room; because what they found may cause complications.

after kirishima had mentioned your name, bakugou was swiftly jogging towards where almost all of his class was sitting gathered around a laptop, which seemed to be mina's, judging by all the leopardy and pink stickers on it.

"out of the way extras!", katsuki stomped over to see what all the fuss was about. from the corner of his eye he saw how you were cowering next to one of the couches, face covered by your hands. at first he couldn't understand why, but when he saw a particular piece of artwork displayed on the laptop screen, he figured you were just majorly embarrassed.

the art that his class found on google was from somebody's blog that was all about the 'heroes of the future!'. needless to say, the blog didn't only deal with the heroes, but also the relationships of them. ever since an encounter at the sports festival that a lot of people saw and shared around, you and bakugou had become a popular so called ship. (the girls explained that 'ship' didn't mean anything related to boats when they teased you about mentioned moment in front of him.)

katsuki couldn't help but feel embarrassed himself, but he also had to keep his cool to not seem suspicious. looking at the drawing of you and him one more time, the ash blond walked over to you, ignoring anything his class was saying.

"(y/n), you ok?", he crouched down to your level, poking your head once. his only response was a quiet hum, followed by a hiccup. worried, katsuki grabbed your hand tightly and pulled you outside the dorm.

the air was nice, not too hot, nor too cold. a light wind was blowing as the moon shone brightly.

bakugou gave you a little space and some time to calm down. when you did, he was quick to ask,

"what's the matter? did you get THAT embarrassed by it?"

you shook your head no. it was something more, but was this the right time to tell him?

"i was really embarrassed at first.", you started, "but then i thought about something and cried."

"about what?", the usually loud boy asked softly. silence was all he got for a good minute until you finally responded,

"you know how they say 'life imitates art'? i really wish it w-was like that..."

now you were the one getting silence as a response. did you really just say that?

"idiot, being all cryptic and shit.", katsuki tried to stay calm, even if he was freaking out on the inside, "if you want a kiss you can have it."

shōto todoroki:

mr. aizawa's classes had a pretty strict schedule most of the time: first the class would get an assignment, that they'd do until said teacher falls asleep. after that, everyone would quietly - in order to not wake up aizawa - do anything they want, really.

for shouto this was more or less just plainly boring, as he was one of the few students that actually did what they had to. he'd finish his work and then wait, because he had nothing else to do. he was most likely to bother midoriya, but today he was very into whatever he was writing down in his little book. so shouto settled for observing the classmates behaviour. well, rather your behaviour.

the half and half boy knew it was weird, but he liked watching you. he liked seeing you, especially when you were happy and smiling. todoroki knew what these 'symptoms' were, but he wanted everything to stay as it was for now.

why he had caught those feelings, he didn't know. he figured it was the way you stood out. you didn't get lost in between the others and he liked that.

while todoroki was deep in thought, ashido had walked over to your desk, where you were doing the assignment in peace and quiet,

"(y/n), look! the other's and i thought about how todoroki always stares at you so intensely, so we created these shipnames! which one do you like better?"

you looked at the paper or rather the newly created words and little pictures drawn by some of your classmates and immediately turned red. flailing your hands around a little, you lied,

"none of these, i don't...like todoroki in that way."

mina looked a tad upset at that, but she understood, nodded and walked back to her table. you sort of felt bad, having killed her excitement, but you didn't need anyone knowing about your secret crush on the stoic one.

speaking of the stoic one, he couldn't hear anything you and mina had talked about. he only saw her walking over, showing you something and you freaking out and sending her away. needless to say, he was curious what had caught you off guard so much. when shouto saw mina throwing away that suspicious piece of paper, he decided to look at it when class ended. even if he thought sticking his hand in the trash was a little gross.

the end of class came sooner than expected. shouto was packing his bag slower than usual, waiting until everyone had left. after they did, he skipped over to the trash can, pulling out the latest addition: a piece of paper that embarrassed (y/n)!

he stuffed it in his bag and carried on walking to his dorm room, where he finally felt safe looking at it, " 'ship names'? why would they want to name a boat after (y/n) and i?", he asked himself, before a certain doodle on the page explained your reaction and the girls' name-mixing. even shouto couldn't help but react in some way, thinking about said doodle happening in real life. that's when he got startled by a knock on his door.

"hey, todoroki. i know you always do your work in class, so i thought i'd come and ask you about...", you drifted off, seeing the light blush on his cheeks and his fire side burning, "...umm, am i interrupting something?"

he was hiding a piece of paper behind his back. you could see just the corner of it, but that was enough for you to identify what paper it was.

"didn't take you for the nosey type.", you akwardly laughed in order to drown out your embarrassment.

"sorry, i got curious.", he looked unusually upset, averting his heterochromatic eyes and letting his arms drop on his sides. you confirmed the paper was indeed the one that mina showed you earlier.

"did you dislike it a lot?", shouto asked without thinking.

now it was your turn to blush.

denki kaminari:

-ok hear me out

-his love language has to be physical touch

-so naturally, when you guys and the rest of the bakusquad had a sleepover, you cuddled

-platonically of course (even though both of you had feelings for one another, but shh)

-oh, but mina couldn't let this one slip

-she HAD to take a picture

-in the morning, when you were still only half awake, mina ecstatically showed her phone into your face

-"LOOK, (Y/N), YOU GUYS ARE THE CUTEST!"

-queue embarrassed (y/n) and denki

eijirō kirishima:

-i feel like with him, you had been like childhood friends

-and back in the day, you guys were all like

-"i'm gonna marry you when i'm older!"

-so you engraved a little "eijirō & (y/n)" into a tree

-years and years later you guys go back to that spot

-just because you wanted to reminisce the good old days

-you guys find the carvings

-"you know, (y/n), i still haven't changed my mind."

-"what do you mean, eijirou?"

-"i'd still marry you."

#headcanons #eijirou kirishima x reader #one shots #katsuki bakugou x reader #denki kaminari x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #x reader #shōto todoroki #eijirō kirishima #katsuki bakugō #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #fanfiction

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steve0discusses · 4 years ago

Text

S5 Ep 14: So If You Put a Fraction Into a Duel Disk, the Card Explodes

We left on quite the cliffhanger last episode, so I’ll fill you in:

I did not get the haircut.

Like I seriously considered getting a Zigfried for a cool 3 or 4 minutes there, but then I decided to wait a couple of days and I basically forgot.

But, back to the arc finale, Seto has decided to walk, not run, to the Kaiba lab in order to fix the virus rapidly eating his entire company.

I just want to point out that Zigfried went through a LOT of work to get Seto Kiaba to go “uggggh” turn around, and pretend to calmly walk away. I’m used to Seto losing his nut kind of a lot and blowing things up but this season he’s like “be chill be chill be chill” so that the entire world doesn’t think he’s a spaz on TV.

And little aside about Seto’s design choices here, I fell down a hole of interior design videos, and can I just say: apparently these wood frame things on the wall are back in style? Good on you, 2002(3?) Seto Kaiba. Don’t think that current designers are painting them purple but...we’re halfway there to Yugioh fashion.

Meanwhile, Pharaoh decides to remind everyone that these stakes are hella low. The worst that happens is that Zigfried deletes the plane that Yugi needs to fly home...which would be an impressive virus.

Like it’s hard to tell if Yami even has a solid concept of “capitalism” and whether or not he cares about or understands the makeup of Seto’s company (which up till now has operated like a small country and not a business...which is a little more Pharaoh’s understanding. Either way...hard to tell if Yami would shed two tears for the loss of Kaiba corp.)

And, despite what I say in the caps, I feel like Leon and Zigfried are the first villains we’ve ever had that Yugi and Pharaoh didn’t unintentionally disclose that they are 2 people to. Zigfried and Leon are just...completely oblivious to how effed up Yugi’s bean is. They think that’s just a normal kid and lol no dudes...y’all got distracted by Seto Kabia but you have a literal Egyptian God just hovering around in the background and dating 3 people by accident.

Like when the show shelves the main storyline, it is very funny how it’s all “And we’re gonna put the Pharaoh crisis on hold--just put a pin in it. No one will notice this child is two nervous wrecks stitched together” and then Yugi and Yami just kinda hold it in and watch all patiently until it’s their turn to get off the bench.

(read more under the cut)

In the giant computer tower, Seto Kaiba shouts out a string of orders and numbers, admired the many sonar detector looking windows open on every monitor, and then sat down at his desk to like...check the firewall, I guess?

The virus is past the firewall. It’s um...it’s inside the firewall, pretty sure that was the point, but youknow, it’s a kid’s show so they’re just throwing out computer stuff that has no meaning to the writers of this show.

Mokuba thinks fondly of how Seto Kaiba has never screwed him over (which I mean...maybe not on purpose, ((except for that one time he did screw him over on purpose to get Gozaburo Kaiba to accidentally give Seto Kaiba the company, but you could say that was a grander scheme that he knew Mokuba would see through, which...)) but Seto certainly has screwed Mokuba over accidentally. At least once.)

And meanwhile, Yami fixes everything through card shenanigans.

So here’s the shenanigan this episode: I don’t go over cards here but this one requires a limited amount of explanation.

So every round the golden castle deletes half of Yugi’s cards. So he was like...I’ll just draw down to one card. They can’t delete half a card...so that means the card must delete one of the two cards on the field which means it must delete itself.

...which is like the closest Yugioh will probably ever get to abusing a glitch to do a speedrunning tactic like GDQ.

Anyway, like I stated in the title: there are no fractions allowed in Yugioh. If you do that to your priceless one-of-a-kind card you got from winning one of Pegasus’ murder tournies, it will irreparably bust the card.

I’m sure at least one of you will correct me with the proper way to insert a fraction into your duel disk. Cuz like...as I say multiple times so we never forget, I barely pay attention to this card game and I’m just flying by the seat of my pants.

I want to say Seto and Mokuba were in the hacker chairs for like...3 minutes maybe before they realized “oh...Yugi fixed it...” and walked the half a mile back to the duel arena.

and also, as I’m looking at Seto’s glasses here, I just realized...all of Kaiba’s team wears sunglasses all the time. Inside, outside, night, or day...

They haven’t outright said this...but what if those aren’t sunglasses?

Is Roland and that other Roland wearing fancy cyber glasses? They are, right? Because they wear them indoors?

Damn, they can’t take a piss without being on call with Kaiba Corp, can they?

Now the problem is...Yugi played all of his cards (he has two in front of him face down, but none in his deck) and after milling himself, this means he’s now basically a sitting duck for Leon to take the title of “King of Games.”

Leon insists that he defend whatever scraps are left of his card honor and not duel a person who is carrying no cards and Yugi was like “COME AT ME BRO THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I KNOW I’M ALIVE.”

He didn’t even have to do a horror on Leon, he just...played cards good? I skipped it, I’ll be honest, but overall Leon’s card honor was...saved? Maybe? I mean he also go destroyed when his competitor had not a single card in his duel disk so...

...Leon will have to work on his card honor off screen because he’s pretty well humiliated at this point.

But stumbling onto the playing field like he’s half dazed/daydrunk, Zigfried is like “You forgot I already won, bastards!”

Which is when we find out that Zigfried’s “delete all” virus failed to press “enter” and deleted basically nothing. Just like when my Mom attempts to send something in Gmail but doesn’t press “Send” and tells me that Google is down and broken.

Sorry my bro has informed me that he ALSO has had to help my Mother locate the “Send” button and I just...I know she absolutely did that but I’m in denial that this Riddle of the Sphinx has happened to her multiple times.

Honestly, the pep talk we get from Leon at the end to cheer up his bro was a whole lot of “we will pick ourselves up and we’ll do better next time. Together.” and sure you can translate that as “we’ll be honest next time” or you can translate that as “next time we will be not nearly as obvious about inserting a virus into their computer until it is done doing the job, bro.”

Just like Dartz, we didn’t really get a whole lot of retribution or closure when it comes to Zigfried. But, unlike Dartz, Zigfried didn’t do too much murder, so I guess this is fine. He tried to cheat in a card game...

...and I guess tried to delete Kaiba Corp but youknow...

...people let him have that. The police saw the ticket of “this man tried to delete Kaiba Corp” and they just...didn’t arrest him. The judge saw that ticket and didn’t put out a warrant. They just let Zigfried have this, almost like “better luck next time, ya?”

And then Roland clocked out for the day and went home, thus ending this arc.

Look at all these characters, most of which we never saw duel even one card.

We also got one shot of Mai for some reason although she was not in this arc.

AAAHHHH. Every time I’m like “the show is done screwing geography” we get another freakin geography spook!

But we went back to California in order to get a scene of these guys in an airport to get a flight to Japan...

which means Rex and Weevil just...were they shipped home by the Kaibas? Because way to ditch getting arrested by the American Government, hot damn. They are...literally terrorists who destroyed a Caltrain in a plot to kill everyone in the world so like...really surprised Rex and Weevil are in public...but maybe all the FBI were dead at the time so they just didn’t know?

Meanwhile, Duke has to go back to Death Valley and call a tow truck for his car, RIP.

I sure hope he got PTO during this stunt and isn’t going home to a pink slip.

I’m not sure of Dukes life or anything going on with Duke. I’m sure the thing about Serenity is him joking because we have all forgotten about that girl by this point...but also...is Duke...still living in the Tenderloin? The crime rate is very, very high and the ground isn’t solid, so it will liquefy if there’s an Earthquake, but it is one of the few places in the Bay Area that doesn’t light on fire every year. He has that going for him.

I just really hope Duke moves out of the Tenderloin one of these days, he needs a better life.

Meanwhile, Rebecca does one last crime.

This is like a post-epidemic reaction to a hug, but in 2002(3?).

I don’t think I’ll miss Rebecca too much. Wanted to like her more, but she was under-utilized, like most of the characters on Yugioh. Not even just talking girl characters here--most characters on Yugioh are super under-utilized, just Tristan Wallflowers doing nothing, but also being selectively OP as hell about very specific things they never, ever need to do.

Speaking of the devil:

Yugi...just saved his entire company...

But Mokuba is just has to make sure to make it seem like they owed Mokuba and not the other way around. Just in case.

So off they go on this massive plane. It’s probably more to do with the length of the trip as to why the plane is so big but also...

This plane is overcompensating.

But before we analyze that, lets close the book on Seto Kaiba’s very short therapy arc. Overall, it was a nice distraction, but I can see why people call it a filler arc, as it really doesn’t affect...anything going on in the major plotlines, which makes me think it could have been a movie or a game or something. But overall, it’s not bad, it’s just not what you’d expect if you were a Western audience.

Like I’m preaching to the choir, but typically, Western stories are entirely plot focused, and so our arcs always give or take away from that plot. But in a Eastern story arc, it may instead be character focused, where the climax is a character evolving or coming to some sort of cathartic realization, which this arc was, in a big way. We still had some plot, because this is a Shonen, but overall it was about characters, and specifically whether or not Leon and his bro would reconcile or change--which they did.

We did get to see a little more growth on Seto in that he...didn’t go bonkers and hallucinate during a card game. It’s been a while since we’ve had him not do that. Seto was very chill this arc, which makes sense, it was a very chill slice of life arc for everyone involved.

So, next we move on to the next one, which bro has informed me...is

still not Bakura.

According to Bro, the next arc didn’t even air in the Japanese version of the show? Like he’s got a lot of spicy Yugioh headcanons so he could be wrong (He did tell me that he thought that Zigfried was Seto Kaiba’s ex boyfriend when he saw this as a kid which...that sure is a way to interpret this arc, and it probably wasn’t just my little brother who went down that thought tube there...)

(Bro Note: To be fair, I didn’t watch much of this arc as a kid.)

But he says the next arc was originally a movie. But they released it in the States as episodes to be part of S5, just to put more episodes in there. Which, if he’s correct, makes it seem like we’re getting like the Mulan 2 experience kind of shoved in between this arc and the next

But um..

according to bro it has virtually no card games.

.......

I’m so used to only capping 10 minutes an episode, what?

Anyway, until then, here’s the link to read the rest of these from the start in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

I’m kinda itching to do a Season Zero, it’s been a hot minute--so those take a little longer to do, especially since I need to go to a different site I haven’t...checked out yet...I’ll be back...eventually? I just know that at some point in Season Zero they fight it out with yo-yo’s and I want to see it.

#yugioh #yu gi oh #ygo #S5 #Ep14 #Seto Kaiba #zigfried von schroeder #leon von schroeder #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #Tristan Taylor #Mokuba #Tea Gardner #Duke Devlin #Rebecca Hawkins #recap #photo recap #episode recap

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tatertotthethot · 5 years ago

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

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writtenmemxries · 4 years ago

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5 Ways to Tell Someone You Love and Appreciate Them

I'm back with a Destiel ficlet that I had in the back of my mind for a while. It's fluff, I think. I sincerely hope you like it, let me know what you think if you want! xx

[1894 words]

Castiel hesitated before entering the bunker's library, where Sam sat at one of the tables, searching for something on the computer. A case perhaps, although since Chuck was defeated, the monsters seemed to have calmed down. The world seemed to have finally found its balance, with Jack in charge.

Sam and Eileen had started dating. They often went out to eat in restaurants, to get ice cream, to do all the activities that couples do and for which Dean jokingly teased him.

Actually, Dean envied him. He had managed to find a semblance of normality in that life that had sent them to the mat bleeding so many times. Yet there he was, smiling and serene as he hadn't been for years. Yes, Dean envied him, but he was so damn happy for him.

Castiel was human, and would remain so forever. Or at least, until his death. It had been a necessary sacrifice, but Castiel didn't mind. He extracted every last drop of his angelic grace to use it in the final battle against Chuck. Dean had insisted so much on him not to do it, he was so sure they would find another way, Cas didn't have to give up everything for them. But after all, that's what he's always done, isn't it?

The only thing that Castiel really wanted was to be able to live peacefully with his family, growing old with them. But he didn't have the courage to tell Dean.

There were so many things he didn't have the courage to tell him, and now that he was human - for the second time in his millennial life - the feelings he felt seemed amplified to the nth degree. They were so overwhelming that he felt the physical need to get rid of this weight that crushed his chest every time Dean looked at him, every time Dean spoke to him, whenever Dean was a little too close to him.

So, that morning, Castiel sought out Sam with the intention of borrowing his computer and doing some... personal research.

"Sam?" Castiel called sheepishly, shifting his weight from side to side.

"Yes, Cas?" Sam answered, looking up from the screen to glance briefly at his friend.

"Could you lend me your computer? Not right now, it's not urgent. I just need it to do, um, research."

Sam gave him his full attention. "Uh, sure, no problem. Did you find a case or something?"

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he had unwittingly got from Dean. "No, it has nothing to do with cases. I have to... look for something. Information."

"Oh." Sam raised his eyebrows. "All right. Can I help you somehow?"

Castiel eyed him, thinking. "No," he replied simply.

Sam chuckled. "Okay, you can use it now if you want. But if you wanna watch porn, use Dean's computer, please."

Castiel squinted, confused. Then Sam stood up and walked away, patting him on the shoulder.

And so, Castiel was left alone.

He sat down in front of the computer and hesitantly opened Google. He stared at the blank page for a while, not sure what to look for exactly. Eventually, he opted for something simple. After all, Dean had explained to him that it was better to use a few simple words.

So Castiel typed, with the slowness of someone who is not yet familiar with computers, How to tell someone you love them.

He surfed for a while, dissatisfied with the results, until he found a page that seemed to be interesting. 5 Ways to Tell Someone You Love and Appreciate Them.

Slowly, he began to read the list of expressions one could use to say I love you without actually saying it.

"You are special to me."

Dean looked up from the book he was reading, sitting in an armchair. Castiel was looking at him, sitting next to him, holding a book he wasn't paying attention to. He smiled softly, and Dean felt his heart skip a beat. He cleared his throat.

"What?"

"I said you are special to me."

Dean took in a sharp breath. "Yeah, I heard it. Why would you say that?"

Castiel shrugged. He focused his gaze on his book without saying a word, and Dean thought he saw a hint of a blush on his face.

He swallowed, trying to slow his heartbeat. Why was it beating so fast anyway?

He resumed reading, pretending to forget what had just happened. It wasn't important, he didn't care. But the blush on his cheeks said otherwise.

"I feel amazing when I spend time with you," Castiel said with a smile, taking the bowl of popcorn from Dean's hands.

They were alone in the so-called Dean Cave, ready to watch a movie together. Sam and Eileen had abandoned them to go celebrate their five-month anniversary, or some nonsense like that.

"Um, thanks, I guess," Dean replied, unsure why his friend had made that comment.

Castiel continued to smile, taking a handful of popcorn, making it fall more on the couch than in his mouth.

Dean giggled. His heart was beating so hard that he could hear it in his ears.

"It's nice to have you here," he said, shaking his head slightly, as if even he couldn't believe he actually said that.

Castiel looked at him with his sweet blue eyes. "The movie is about to start," he said softly.

"Yeah," Dean whispered. He cleared his throat. "Give me the popcorn, you bastard!"

He tried to focus on the film, but it was difficult as he kept rehearsing Castiel's words in his mind, glancing at him every now and then, focusing on how the light from the TV reflected off his eyes.

"Your thoughtfulness is a delight to receive," Castiel said as Dean placed a jar of honey he bought for Cas the day before on the breakfast table.

Sam looked up from his plate, surprised. He looked at Dean, whose ears were turning red.

"Yeah well, I know how much you like it and how much of a pain-in-the-ass you can be if you don't eat it," Dean muttered. "I didn't go there to buy it on purpose, it was there and when I saw it I thought of you and, um, I bought it, and-" he stammered.

Sam laughed quietly at the bizarre exchange. Dean shot him a cold look.

"Whatever. Just eat the damn thing."

Castiel smiled and took the jar of honey, humming a joyful tune under his breath.

Dean did everything he could to hide the smile that was growing on his lips behind his cup of coffee.

"Your smile makes me smile."

Dean stiffened. Eileen had just told a particularly funny anecdote about Sam, and Dean couldn't help but throw his head back and burst into laughter, making fun of his little brother.

But as soon as Castiel spoke, Dean nearly lost his balance, almost falling off his chair.

Cas was looking at him with so much adoration that Dean felt his insides turn to mush. He was sure his cheeks were on fire. Wasn't it a little hot in that room, too?

Sam and Eileen glanced at each other knowingly and stood up, muttering something about having to go get something in the kitchen.

Dean stood still, his eyes glued to Castiel, who blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, looking away.

"What? No, no, you didn't- I don't-"

Castiel got up slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "It's been a tiring day, I better go to bed."

Dean nodded, remaining silent. "Goodnight Cas," he said then in an uncertain voice.

Castiel gave him a small smile, then disappeared into the corridor.

Dean thought he saw a veil of sadness in his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, along with the guilt he felt, and tried to forget about it.

That night, however, he struggled to fall asleep.

"Don't you think Cas is acting a little weird these days?" Dean asked his brother after Castiel had gone out with Eileen to go grocery shopping.

Sam shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, he's been saying weird things. I mean, weirder than usual."

"For example?"

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Come on, you heard it last night. 'Your smile makes me smile', what the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Sam looked at his brother. Oh Dean. Poor, oblivious Dean.

"What?" he snapped, feeling his brother's gaze on him.

Sam shook his head. "You should ask him. I mean, I can't speak on his behalf, but... Dean, I think Cas is trying to send you... signals."

"Signals, what kind of signals?"

"Seriously, Dean? What kind of signals?"

Dean swallowed. "Cas doesn't like me."

"Well, the evidence says something else," Sam noted before leaving Dean alone and confused, with feelings and sensations he couldn't name.

However, he decided to follow Sam's advice, and as soon as Castiel returned with the shopping bags, he approached to help him, hoping that he could take him aside to talk, but it wasn't that simple. Not only did Castiel avoid his gaze for the rest of the day, but he did what he could to avoid him as well.

So, Dean knocked on his bedroom door that night. He had no idea what he was going to say, and a part of him hoped that Castiel was already asleep, that he didn't hear him, that he wouldn't open the door. But this was not the case.

The doorknob turned, and Dean found himself face to face with the former angel.

"Hey."

"Hello Dean." Castiel turned his back to him. "Do you need something?"

"Um, I..." He took a few tentative steps inside the room, then closed the door behind him. "You okay man?"

Castiel looked at him in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he used to do when he was still an angel. "Yes. Why?"

Dean shrugged casually. "I don't know, you've been a little... weird, lately. I mean, um..."

Castiel tensed. "I apologise if my behaviour somehow made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention."

"No, no, not that, actually, I, um-"

Castiel stared at him curiously. He focused his gaze on Dean's red-tinged cheeks, on his receding eyes, on the way he kept rubbing the back of his neck.

A quick thought went through his mind. What if...?

Slowly, he walked over to Dean. He saw his breathing quicken, his pupils widen.

He was a breath away from him.

"Dean."

Dean closed his eyes, swallowing slowly. "Yeah Cas?"

"I am sorry if I crossed a line, but the truth is... I can be me when I am with you."

Dean opened his eyes, getting lost in the blue of Castiel's, but said nothing.

"And I hope you feel the same," Castiel said in a whisper.

For a moment neither of them spoke, and Castiel felt terribly guilty, like he had it all wrong. He was already about to back off when Dean grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Yeah Cas, I do."

And in an instant, he closed the distance between them. Their lips met trembling, uncertain. Unknown but familiar at the same time.

With a sigh, Castiel smiled. "I love you," he said softly, and Dean smiled back.

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nikki-writes-stuff · 5 years ago

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Beauty in the Blood - Part One

Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader

A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses!

Warning: This chapter contains hints of smut and GRAPHIC descriptions of death and murder. Later on, this fic will also include rape/non con, dub con, kidnapping, yandere/obsessive elements, and even MORE graphic descriptions of death and murder. Please read at your own risk, and as usual, this is only for the eyes of those 18 and older. Thank you, and enjoy!

It was hard to find a decent guy these days. New York was the city of dreamers, artists, and absolute weirdos, and out of the three, you only seemed to attract the latter. You’d been to speed dating events and Singles Night at your local bar, but there was never a connection, never a spark, and every guy seemed to have something fundamentally wrong with him. It wasn’t that you were looking for the perfect guy, it was just that you’d met too many who were demanding, controlling, or misogynistic.

You’d given up on finding your special someone a year after you’d moved to the city. After all, being single wasn’t too bad. You could do what you want whenever you wanted without having to think about someone else. So what if you didn’t have anyone to kiss on New Years? So what if you cried a little every now and then from feeling so alone? It was fine. It was absolutely fine, you told yourself. Fine, fine, fine…

“I’m absolutely fine, Wanda. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy.”

You were sat across from your good friend, who was stirring her coffee with one hand while she tapped her fingers against the table with the other. She arched a skeptical eyebrow at you before taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re right; you don’t. But you’re lonely,” she pointed out. “A boyfriend would help with that.”

There was no denying that she was right. Wanda was perceptive, and she was also one of your closest friends. You’d met her during your first week of living in New York, and she’d helped you adjust to living in such a busy, fast-paced place. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself, and that was why you slumped in defeat and threw back the last gulp left of your mimosa.

“God, you’re right,” you bemoaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know,” she grinned. “But don’t worry; I can help.”

“Wanda, not that I don’t appreciate your effort, but the last guy you sent me out on a date with got mad that I didn’t put out after he paid for my dinner. I don’t want to go on any more blind dates.”

She winced, reaching over to pat the back of your hand.

“I had no idea Kyle was like that,” she promised you. “If I’d known he would be such an asshole you know I wouldn’t have set you up. But I wasn’t going to suggest another blind date.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“What did you have in mind, then?”

She grinned and reached into her purse, fishing around until she found her phone.

“I heard of a new dating app that made me immediately think of you,” she explained excitedly, pulling up the website and passing her device over to you. “It matches you with people in your area based on your Google searches!”

“Pfffft.” You scoffed, taking a quick glance at the screen before looking back to your friend. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”

“I know, I know, it’s a strange concept. But it has one of the highest success ratings out of all the dating websites! It’s only been around for six months, but over half of its users say that they’ve found someone they can see themselves spending the rest of their lives with!”

“Statistics can be made up, you know,” you groused. “Besides, one look at my browser history would send anyone running in the opposite direction.”

“Maybe not someone who has one similar to yours,” she pointed out. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Wanda, you know what I do for a living, right? I could match with some kind of serial killer!”

Your friend just waved you off and ordered another coffee, picking up her phone again and stuffing it into her pocket.

“Just try it? Please?” she begged. “Just give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, then that’s that, right? No harm done.”

Several hours later, and you found yourself sitting on your couch, staring at the same website homepage that Wanda had shown you. You bit your lip, letting your fingers skim over your laptop’s keys, not typing anything just yet but feeling their ridges as you considered the “Join Now” button.

There wouldn’t be any harm in it, right? Just like Wanda said, if you hated the kind of people you matched with, then you could always delete your profile. And you didn’t only search things for your research, after all; you also googled recipes and cute animal videos. What if you matched with a gorgeous guy who’d also googled “Try Not To Laugh – Kitten Edition”? Hell yeah.

After taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you clicked on the button, making quick work of filling out the ‘About You’ information. Five minutes later, you’d chosen a profile picture and linked your Google account to the website, and you were ready to sift through your matches. The wheel on the screen turned slowly as your computer processed the information, and you actually jolted when it dinged with the results.

Well. Result. There was only one person who’d shown up with a similar search history as you. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, and you almost closed your laptop and went to retreat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from your fridge, calling it a day and forgetting the whole debacle. But then you saw his profile picture and… Holy shit.

He was lean and pale, and your eyes were immediately drawn to his long, black hair. He had it slicked back in the photo with just one strand hanging down over his left eye. In the photo, he was wearing an exquisitely tailored black suit with a black shirt and tie underneath it, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along the lithe contours of his body. He looked as if he were carved from marble; you almost started drooling just from the sight of him.

You jumped again when your computer dinged for a second time, and your eyes widened when you saw that you had a new message in your inbox. With fingers that were just barely trembling, you opened it, skimming over the message from the man you’d paired with.

Good evening. I must admit, I was quite surprised when I got the notification that we’d matched with one another. I’ve had this profile for about four months, and I’d had yet to be paired with anyone.

So he was handsome and eloquent. You clicked on his profile and blinked when you saw his name. Loki Odinson. Wow. Even his name was refined, if not a little strange; it sounded like a name you’d give to one of the characters in your books.

Hello, Loki, you typed out. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was pretty surprised to find someone else who has such a twisted search history. I don’t know if I should be happy or concerned.

It only took him a few moments to reply.

The feeling is mutual; I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for the morbidity, though. Mine is that I happen to be a coroner for a living. And yours is…?

I’m a writer, you explained, your interest piqued by his profession. I write murder mysteries. So, yeah… Morbidity seems like a fitting way to describe it.

A writer, you say. I happen to be quite an avid reader; would I know any of your work?

I’m not sure; have you ever heard of The Bell Ringer? That’s probably my most well-known book.

You’re kidding.

He sent you a picture, and it was of a pale hand holding a copy of The Bell Ringer, your name glistening in bold font beneath the title.

I’m a great fan of your work, as you can see. I own several of your novels.

Another photo loaded beneath the newest text, and it was of a shelf full of your books. The Shrew Woman, A Night in New Hampshire, The Hanging Woman – nine books in total. The only one that you’d written that wasn’t there was the one you’d just sent out to your publisher, and you suspected that once it was out in stores, it would be joining the ranks of Loki’s shelf.

Wow! It’s always so nice to meet a reader. I’m so glad you like my stuff!

Oh, love, you’re a huge talent. I must say, I’ve found your work rather inspiring.

That’s so kind of you to say!

I know that this is rather forward, but are you doing anything tonight?

You glanced up at the clock you had hanging on the wall – 8:13 pm. It was already pretty late; typically you’d be putting on your pajamas and curling up in bed to do some late night reading here soon. But something inside of you whispered that you should do it; you weren’t spontaneous enough. What if this was an opportunity to meet the One? At the very least, it would be cool to meet such a loyal reader.

It depends on if this guy I’m talking to online asks me out. Do you think he will?

He would have to be a fool not to. I suspect he’ll ask you if you’d like to meet at a café.

Well, then, I suspect I’ll have to say yes.

An excited grin was plastered over your lips as you bantered back and forth, and when Loki sent you an address and a message saying ‘I’ll see you there in twenty minutes’, you jumped off of your sofa and rushed to put on your shoes. You were still dressed in the leggings and oversized sweater you’d worn to brunch with Wanda, and all you had to do was straighten your hair and pull on your boots before you were out the door. The address he’d sent you was within walking distance of your apartment; in fact, you’d been there before, but never on a date.

Your heart was pounding the entire way over, and you couldn’t get over how unlike you this was. You didn’t just get up and meet guys you’d met on the internet on such short notice, much less so late at night. And yet here you were, stepping into the café fifteen minutes after receiving Loki’s message. Your eyes scanned the room, but it appeared that he wasn’t there yet. As you got in line to order, you tried to calm yourself, not wanting to look too frazzled when your date finally showed up. You tried to even your breathing, twisting the fabric of your sleeves between your nervous fingers.

He’s just a person, you told yourself. You’ve been on dates before; everything was going to be fine. Nothing bad was going to-

“Hello, there.”

You gasped and turned around, eliciting a chuckle from the man now towering over you. He was dressed in a set of black trousers with a simple white button-down tucked into them, and his hair was loose and falling around his shoulders. His grin was wide and full of teeth, with just the slightest sinister edge to it. But his eyes were warm and twinkling with excitement and just a hint of mischief. Those clear blue irises brought a smile to your own lips, and you chuckled along with him at your initial fright.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk in,” you explained.

“It’s quite alright,” he assured you, offering his hand. “I know you already are aware, but I’m Loki.”

You grinned and introduced yourself, going to shake his hand, but he smoothly cradled your fingers and drew them up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” he cooed, seemingly all too aware of how flustered you now were.

You opened your mouth to say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything to say as silence lay heavily between the two of you. You were saved, though, when the barista called out to you, asking if she could take your order. You spun around on your heel and shot her a grateful glance before ordering your favorite menu item and reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“…And I’ll have a cup of Earl Grey,” Loki stepped in, handing her a card from his open wallet.

“Oh, I could have paid for mine,” you protested, but he waved you off.

“No, no, love. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a tight, close-lipped smile, and you didn’t protest further as he paid for your orders. He led you to a booth in the corner, sliding into the side opposite to yours gracefully. The leather squeaked against your thighs as you shuffled in, and when you were finally settled across from him you caught a flicker in his eye that sent chills up your spine.

It was gone in an instant, though, replaced by the same suave look he’d had while ordering his tea.

“So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “As I said before, I’m a fan of your work. Truly, I have been since your very first novel.”

“’Beauty in the Blood’?” you asked incredulously. “I’m surprised; no one seems to like that one. After reading it, my mom suggested that I start going to therapy.”

Loki chuckled, licking his lips, and your eyes followed his tongue of their own accord.

“Ah, well, whether or not that’s true, it’s still my favorite of your works by far,” he continued. “The parts told by the killer’s perspective were…beautiful. You captured his mind so artfully, it was as if…”

He paused, searching your face for a moment.

“It was as if…you understood him,” he finished.

You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking over his words. He’d skipped right over the small talk you’d come to suspect on first dates, but despite how strange of a direction the conversation was taking, you were…intrigued by it.

“Well,” you started, “I feel like I did understand him. I mean, sure, he took delight in the killing of others; he saw it as an art form. But as twisted and evil as he was, he was still a person – a person that had come from my mind. Cuz the thing is…”

You paused, gathering your thoughts and trying to find the right words to convey them.

“The thing is,” you spoke carefully, “that every storyteller uses bits and pieces of themselves to tell a story. A story is like a stained glass window – it’s made up of different pieces of an author’s mind and soul, and it comes together to create something greater than the sum of those pieces. So, yes, I think I can understand him; his darkness might be a reflection of my own – deep, deep down.”

You glanced up at him, blinking when you saw the transfixed look upon his face. His eyes were wider than they had been before, and his lips were parted as he listened.

“Sorry,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I, uh… I got a little carried away. You probably think I’m some kind of freak-“

“I think you’re beautiful.”

His words took your breath away, and when the barista set down your cups on the table, you jumped in surprise.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” she asked cheerfully, and a flash of annoyance crossed over Loki’s face at the interruption.

“We’re fine,” you assured her quickly, giving her a polite smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome!”

You gripped your mug tightly as she walked away, savoring its heat as it warmed up your cold hands.

“So,” you said, desperate to break the sudden silence that had fallen over the table, “you mentioned that you’re a coroner. What drew you to your profession?”

Loki sipped his tea, humming as he thought over the question.

“Well… The conversation has already veered towards the darker side of things,” he mused. “I might as well tell you the story.

“When I was twelve years old, my sister killed herself,” he began.

“Oh, Loki, I’m so sorry-“

“Oh, no, don’t be,” he interrupted. “We weren’t close at all. I was adopted at a young age, you see, and Hella never accepted me. She was cruel, and she took every opportunity she could to remind me of my inadequacies.

“But, as I said, one day she died. At first, we didn’t know how it happened; there were no marks on her body whatsoever. She just looked like she was sleeping as she lay there in bed. We called the hospital, and the police, and eventually the coroners discovered that she’d injected bleach into her arm. Later on, my mother found the syringe under her bed, and all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. We finally knew the how and the when, and I never really cared much about the why.

“…That probably makes me sound like a monster, doesn’t it?”

You sat back, swallowing a scalding-hot sip of your drink before answering.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “I don’t think that makes you a monster. She abused you; it’s only natural that you found some relief in her death. I would’ve probably felt the same way.”

He studied you for a moment, tracing the lip of his cup with his index finger.

“I wonder if you would have…” he murmured to himself, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it.

“Well,” he sighed, plastering a smile on once more and straightening up, “you probably aren’t going to be very keen on a second date if I keep dragging our conversation into subjects like this. Tell me, where are you from? What made you move to the city?”

“How do you know I’m not from here?”

“Love, neither of us have the New York accent, now do we?”

You laughed, and after that the two of you fell into an easy flow; it seemed that the heavy beginning of the date made it all the easier to talk to him. You discussed what you liked about the city and what you didn’t like; you learned that Loki was originally from a small town right outside of London, and that he has an adopted brother named Thor that he was close to.

“He’s an oaf,” he’d said when you’d asked what his brother was like. “Everything about him is literally the opposite of its coinciding part of me. But…he loves me; he never thought of me as the adopted child. I was always just his brother; despite his shortcomings, I think he does mean well. Besides, his IQ level is in the single digits, so I’m afraid I must look out for him for fear of what would happen if he were left to his own devices.”

From there, you shared stories about growing up, about life and ex partners and mistakes and successes. Before you knew it, the happy barista from before was approaching your table again, this time with a nervous smile.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted. “I’m so so sorry to bother you, but we’re closing up…”

Loki glanced down at his watch as you glanced at your phone – 10:30.

“Shit,” you laughed. “I had no idea. Time flies…”

Your date shot a glare at the barista before his eyes flickered to you. He gave you a wide, close-lipped smile and straightened his collar, raising his eyebrows.

“Then I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” he murmured. “May I escort you home?”

“Oh! Of course. If it’s not too far out of your way…”

“Even if it is,” he smiled, “I still want to walk you home.”

Your heart fluttered, and you set a five dollar bill on the table as a tip before standing up. The barista scurried away, and you almost turned to apologize to her for Loki’s cold shoulder. But you didn’t know him well yet; maybe that’s just how he was. Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it.

“You guys have a good night!” she called out after you, and you smiled over your shoulder at her before reaching for the door. Loki’s hand darted out and grabbed the handle before you could, opening it for you with a slight bow.

“After you, my lady.”

“How chivalrous.”

The two of you walked side by side down the street, hands brushing as you strolled down the sidewalk. You glanced upwards, smiling at the scattering of stars overhead as your breath fogged in the chilly air. You shivered, rubbing your arms a little bit to ward off the chill. Loki evidently caught the movement, and you felt his arm drape around your shoulders. You leaned into the warmth of his body, tilting your head up to share a grin with him.

“Again – chivalrous.”

He chuckled, squeezing you for a beat.

“I try my best… It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you, but…very pretty.”

You laughed and hid your face in his neck.

“Stop… You’re too charming.”

“Oh, really? I was under the impression there was no such thing.”

The two of you fell back into a companionable silence as you guided him towards your brownstone, until he spoke up once again.

“I must say… There’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you that I’m just…dying to know the answer to.”

“Go ahead, Loki. I’m an open book.”

He laughed softly again, hesitating before voicing his question.

“If you were to kill someone, how would you do it?”

You paused, thinking over your response.

“Well… Why am I killing them? Is it a crime of passion or a crime of necessity? Am I killing them just for the enjoyment of it, or out of revenge, or because the person needs to die for a bigger cause?”

“That… That is actually an excellent follow-up question,” Loki mused. “Let’s say… A crime of necessity. The person needs to die for a personal reason with no anger or revenge in mind. How do you do it?”

You bit your lip, calling to mind all of your morbid Google searches that might apply.

“Um… Air shot between the toes,” you finally said. “Fill a syringe with air and inject it between their toes while they sleep. It’ll look like a heart attack that way.”

Unbeknownst to you, warmth suddenly bloomed in Loki’s chest, and you glanced up just in time to catch the fond, almost…loving gleam in his eye. He quickly looked away, tilting his head up to look at the stars, but you’d caught it. And it wasn’t that it unsettled you; you weren’t uncomfortable because of the look. You were uncomfortable because you hadn’t been upset by it. You’d felt that same flutter once again as butterflies batted around your rib cage.

Nothing more was said as you turned the corner that led to your street, and you silently ascended your home’s steps with Loki’s arm still around your shoulders. You reluctantly slid your key into the lock, only turning to him once your door was opened a crack.

“I had… A really good time with you, Loki,” you told him, craning your neck to look into his eyes. “I know that this isn’t what you’re supposed to say to a guy after a first date; I know that it might scare you away. But I want you to know that I haven’t felt this way in a long… Actually, I’ve never felt this way. And it’s really scary, but I hope… I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

Loki’s eyes softened, and he moved his arm from around your shoulders to your cheek.

“I haven’t felt his way, either,” he murmured. “But I know that I don’t want the feeling to go away.”

He was leaning forward, his eyes closing, and your heart leapt into your throat as you met him halfway. His lips were cold, and smooth, and soft as they pressed against yours, and you leaned into his touch when he pulled you closer by your hips. A sound escaped your throat as his tongue darted out, licking past the barrier of your mouth to glide itself against yours. His hands came up to cradle your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against your cheekbones as your lips moved against one another, and you hummed once again as your chests pressed together.

You don’t know who pulled away first, but you spent a moment just taking in one another’s essence, your foreheads pressed together as the fog of your breaths mingled. You heard Loki let out a chuckle, and you looked up curiously.

“What is it?”

“I’ve just…” He licked his lips and let out another soft laugh before pulling away.

“I’ve just never felt like this before,” he repeated.

You smiled and pressed a peck to his lips before walking towards your door again.

“Have a good night, love,” he called after you, and you paused in the doorway to blow him a kiss.

“You too, Loki.”

You shut your door, missing the way his gaze darkened as he stared at the façade of your building.

“Oh, I will, darling. I will.”

__________

Loki hummed to himself, the leather of his gloves squeaking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The silver of the table gleamed under the fluorescent lights of his basement, and the air was musty, thick with the smell of iron…and decay. Instruments and tools were lined along the wall in front of him - knives, machetes, a hatchet… It was cliché; he knew that. But he just hadn’t been able to resist the temptation while designing this special room.

A muffled scream sounded from behind him, and he rolled his eyes before turning back to the perky little barista who was currently strapped down to another metal table he’d “borrowed” from the hospital morgue.

“Are you honestly still trying to scream for help?” he snarked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’ve told you; you’re currently under about five feet of solid concrete. Who will hear you? Who will help you?”

The girl let out a sob, and he watched her big blue eyes flicker to the wall just over his shoulder before coming to rest on him again. They were red and swollen, and he let out a coo of false sympathy.

“Oh, don’t worry, little girl. None of these are for you.” He grinned, turning back to the table behind him. “You can thank my new lover for that. No, she inspired me to take a different direction this evening.”

A small, genuine smile came over his face as he picked up the large syringe, turning it over in his hands.

“She’s been inspiring me for a while, actually,” he mused, ignoring the screams as he sauntered over to his victim, syringe in hand. “She’s such a brilliant writer, my darling is. It truly was fate that brought us together; if I’d had known that my favorite author was a beautiful young woman who also lived in Manhattan, well… I’m sure I would have found her sooner. But I won’t dwell on lost time; I’ll just have to make up for it.”

He ran a hand over the girl’s knee, trailing it down her shin even as she struggled against the strong ropes twined around her wrists and ankles. As his hand gripped the arch of her foot in an iron-like hold, he let his eyes close. This was always his favorite part – the moments right before death. The anticipation was like foreplay; it got him just as hot and eager, and the payoff was very nearly comparable. If he were ever asked to describe the feeling of ending another person’s life, of ripping out the remaining chapters from their story before it could be written, the only thing he’d be able to compare it to was an orgasm. That white-hot pleasure that flooded his veins was addictive, as was the lead up he was experiencing right now.

“You know,” he mused, slowly drawing back the plunger of the syringe, “my girl is so smart… Not a lot of people would think to off someone like this. But it’s not as easy as you would think; you can’t just use any old syringe. It has to be big, has to be a lot of air. And you have to be careful; if you hit muscle, it won’t be fatal, and the whole endeavor would be for naught. But if you hit a vein, and if you get a big enough pocket of air…”

The duct tape on her mouth did little to quell her scream as he inserted the needle into her flesh. A novice might not be able to find a vein, especially not in a foot, but the years of medical school paid off, just as they did every day at his job. He injected the empty cartridge into her vein, groaning and letting his eyes drift shut. He was slow about removing the needle; the separation of steel from skin was slow, intimate… Gentle.

“Hush…” he whispered, drawing out the word with a hiss. “It’s done now, love. It’s done.”

He let his arm fall to the side, and he took a step back, watching the girl start to settle down as he put some distance between them. He gently set the syringe down onto the table before crossing the room to the armchair in the corner. Letting out a soft grunt, he lowered himself into the seat, crossing his legs and letting his head fall back.

“Fuck, what a day,” he sighed. “This isn’t what I was expecting when I woke up this morning.”

Loki lifted his head and gave the young girl a wry smile.

“As you may have guessed, this isn’t my first time doing something like this,” he began. “But I do try to limit myself. I may take…five victims a year. Maybe six or seven if I’m particularly stressed. My last one was on New Year’s, though. I’m not due for a killing for another few months, but… That girl really had me going.

“I was hoping that she’d invite me in tonight,” he confessed. “Though I wasn’t expecting it. It was our first date, after all. But a man can hope, can’t he? If she had invited me to stay the night, you wouldn’t be here right now. Alas, though… I had all of these pent up feelings that I had to do something with. And you were so…obnoxious back at the café. I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine with your disgusting, overbearing cheerfulness or if it was as fake as your blonde hair. But, god, did it get under my skin…”

The girl let out a sob, and he noticed that she was beginning to shake. He chuckled, feeling himself grow hard in his trousers as he thought of you. You’d come up with this idea, this beautiful, drawn-out murder. Such a sweet, innocent looking girl on the outside. But such delicious, pure wickedness within.

“Fuck,” he huffed, palming himself through his pants. “Despite the nuisance you made of yourself, today was so perfect… She’s the One, you know. The one and only girl who can ever complete me. I didn’t even believe in this sort of thing this morning, but for the first time in my life, I’m glad I was wrong.”

He forced himself to still his hand, moving it to his knee as his jaw clenched. In the past, he’d done this in front of a few of his victims; male or female, if they were pretty, young things, the act of killing them made him so hard that he had to touch himself as he watched them squirm on his table. But not tonight, not after you. That part of himself was only for you, now, and he was strong enough to resist the urge until his was the only heart beating under his roof.

And so he sat back and watched. At first, the girl only shivered, and after thirty minutes he was afraid that he hadn’t injected enough air into her. But then he noticed the way she was breathing; it was like she was a fish out of water, and the slope of her furrowed eyebrows betrayed the pain she was in.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, voice thick. At first she didn’t answer, but then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. He hummed in understanding, hiding his grin behind his hand as he scratched his chin.

“How marvelous.”

He knew she wouldn’t last long when her skin started to turn blue. After an hour, the seizures began, jolting and shaking her body as if she were a ragdoll. He watched in fascination, his cold, blue eyes never leaving her tied-up form. Soft, strained whimpers were leaving her throat, and he let out a purr as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

His joints popped as he stood up, and the heels of his shoes clicked against the concrete floor as he rounded the table, making his way to her pretty blonde head. He slowly, deliberately pulled the duct tape away from her mouth, and he chuckled at how blue her lips had become.

“This is a much better look on you,” he observed. “This is so much more real than those saccharine smiles.”

She finally went still 84 minutes after the injection. Even after her heart stopped beating, he stood over her, watching the unnatural stillness of her chest. Despite all of the corpses he’d created over the years, and despite the years he’d spent in his profession, it was still something that he’d never gotten used to. People weren’t supposed to be that still; people were supposed to blink, and smile, and talk, and breathe, but the things they became after death did none of those things. They didn’t move, and they didn’t feel, and there was always a moment of disgust when he first laid eyes on a fresh corpse.

But it passed quickly, even quicker than normal tonight. The disgust faded away and left behind pure, unadulterated lust as his thoughts strayed once more to you. Typically, he would stay behind, lingering in the basement to dispose of the body. Sometimes, if he wasn’t too tired, he would actually drive out and deposit them in whatever spot he’d predetermined to be the one the police were to find them in.

But tonight, he left the corpse there on the table. He flicked the lights off and climbed the first, then the second set of stairs, peeling off his gloves and petting his cat on the way to his bedroom. He showered, then combed his hair, then settled down between his silk sheets completely naked. Then, and only then, did his hand travel down to his cock, and his mind once again, indubitably, trekked back to you. Your face, your voice, your beautiful fucking mind…

The thought that finally made him cum was the picture of him fucking you in a pool of blood on his basement floor, of the bright crimson painting your skin as he let his hands worship your body. The thought followed him into his dreams, ruby red and throbbing to the beat of his heart as he slept deeply into the night.

_____________

Detective Romanoff stood side by side with her partner in front of the dead body, hands planted firmly on her hips as she chewed her lip.

“How old did you say she was?” she asked the coroner, her eyes flicking down to the rope burn on the woman’s – the girl’s – wrists and ankles.

“Twenty,” was Dr. Odinson’s accented reply. He turned around, glancing between the two detectives before taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to the body. “I’m afraid that there won’t be much investigating for the two of you to do here. The cause of death was a heart attack, pure and simple.”

“A twenty year old girl having a heart attack?” Detective Rogers scoffed. “I think you got your wires crossed, there, Loki.”

Natasha watched as a muscle in the coroner’s jaw twitched, and he let out a frustrated huff as he peeled off his medical gloves.

“Detective, this sort of thing happens all the time – freak accidents that can strike even the healthiest of people. They are…unfortunate, but they’re also a fact of life.” He tossed the balled up gloves into a trash can and whisked past them, bending over to type something into the laptop resting on his desk as he continued speaking to them.

“After reviewing her medical records, I found out that her father died two years ago from a heart attack; if I were a gambling man, I would say that a bad set of genes were the only culprit here.”

“What about the marks on her wrists?” Natasha asked. “They gotta mean something, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Loki smirked, cutting his eyes over at her before straightening up. “It probably means that little Miss…” He paused, glancing down at a paper resting beside his computer. “Miss Allison Berry was into bondage before her untimely demise.”

“A woman is lying dead, Odinson,” Rogers spat. “Show some respect.”

Loki raised his hands up in surrender as he sauntered towards them.

“I apologize if I offended you, Detective,” he replied coolly. “I meant no disrespect. But I’ve run all the tests in the book. There were no signs of sexual assault, no signs of foul play. I’ll type up a proper report for the two of you, but I’m telling you now – the girl died of a heart attack.”

Natasha and Steve shared a look before turning back to the doctor.

“Have the report ready for us before the end of the day,” she ordered, patting Steve on the shoulder and gesturing for him to follow her as she made her way out of the cold morgue.

“Whatever you say, Officer.”

Natasha froze mid-step, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle as a thousand images flashed through her mind after hearing him say that word. She gulped, oblivious to the confused look Steve was giving her, and she kept walking without turning back around.

“It’s Detective, now, doctor.”

The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off Loki’s dark chuckle as he was once again was left alone with Allison Berry’s body. His smile didn’t fade as he pulled on another pair of gloves; if anything, it grew as he finished the young woman’s autopsy.

“I was being honest with them; you know that, don’t you?” He winked at the girl’s unseeing eyes, his hands moving of their own accord as he stitched up the clean line he’d cut through the skin, bone, and muscle of her chest.

“It was just a heart attack.”

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki imagine #serial killer au #serial killer!loki #dark!fic #dark!loki

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shinydelirium · 3 years ago

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MLQC Season 2 Chapter 12 (Kiro) Part 4 [Confession of the Stars] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 12: Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3

Enjoy~

[Confession of the Stars]

Even so, I still didn’t see Kiro’s face. The hospital still expressed his unwillingness to see anyone.

But nonetheless, it was fine for me to text him. I want him to know that he is not alone.

As long as he wants, I will appear in front of him immediately.

In the past two days, Kiro has asked Savin to bring his belongings to him from time to time and sometimes buy a few books.

After entrusting a lawyer to submit my alibi for me, I no longer need to go to the Task Force for regular reports.

However, the previous hospital hostage incident triggered more and more group skirmishes and discussions on the Internet continued on.

Everyone wants become the one who wins the right to speak. On the other hand, the hostile takeover incident of LFG, which had been raging before, was gradually suppressed.

There hasn’t been much movement on LFG’s side, so the problem probably isn’t that serious. I also successfully sent out the USB flash drive according to Gavin’s instructions.

Many departments of the company are asking whether or not to follow the hot topics to produce a show. I was so busy that I could only text Kiro at night.

Such days lasted for more than a week.

After nine o’clock in the evening, I had just entered the house, dragging my weary body when Kiro called.

Kiro: ….Miss Chips?

His voice was a little cautious, wary, and even quivering.

MC: What’s wrong?

Kiro let out a little laugh from the other end.

I’ve been so out of it lately. It’s been a very long time since I heard him laugh so enthusiastically.

Kiro: MC, say my name.

MC: Kiro, are you okay? Why are you so happy?

He didn’t answer but just laughed happily.

Kiro: What are you up to?

MC: Of course, I just got home from a rough day at work. ***Changed some wording***

Kiro: Thanks for all the hard work, Miss Chips.

I was lying on the sofa and complaining to Kiro about recent events. He listened carefully, and from time to time he also grumbled about his troubles to me.

This moment gave me a certain illusion, as if nothing was wrong.

The next day I heard that Kiro asked Savin to bring his guitar.

At the same time, the Task Force came forward and started to take control of the chaotic situation reasonably and accurately.

I checked Weibo and found that more and more people are no longer emotionally angry, but deeper in discussion about the relationship between Evol and ordinary people.

Along with the nice weather, I think a lot of things are heading in a good direction little by little.

I had a rare chance to get off of work early today. After thinking about it, I went and bought Kiro’s favorite canelé and arrived at the door of his ward.

MC: It would be wonderful if I could see him today…

While I muttered this, I stretched out my hand to knock on the door.

Before I could, an overly harsh and messy guitar chord came to my ears and left me frozen in place.

The crude, sharp sound felt as if it was forced out like a shout being torn from a person’s throat and the chords held some frustration within them.

It was so depressing. It was even hard to breathe.

After a profound silence, a few faint guitar notes came quietly as if crying. The voice was soft and desperate, as if it was not a note.

But a shattered dream.

I leaned on the door and listened to the broken chords, holding my breath without making a sound.

Finally, I left the snack in the nurse’s care. I told her to give it to Kiro after waiting for a bit and then left.

On the way home, a new advertisement shot by Kiro some time ago is being displayed on the large screen on the side of the road.

Passerby A: Kiro clearly announced that he’s an Evolver. Why is he still so popular?

Passerby B: Kiro is Kiro. What does that have anything to do with being an Evolver?

Passerby A: Maybe he used some special Evol to control you and made you like him so much.

Passerby B: Do you actually know him or even understand him?! Of course, there’s a reason why Kiro is so well-liked. Do you think Evol can do everything?

Passerby B: I’ll show you this collection. You’ll understand after reading it. Why hasn’t he released a new song yet….?

The girl and her companions walked away slowly and I watched their backs disappear into the night.

In this turbulent moment, there are still many people talking about him, expecting him, and waiting for him. But at this time, I don’t want to tell him this.

Stars dotted the night sky, watching the whole city tenderly and peacefully.

I took a photo of this night sky with my phone and sent it to Kiro.

I don’t know what Kiro is struggling by himself, but I hope he won’t make all his expectations become his own burdens.

There was no reply from Kiro that night.

Until 7:25 the following evening, my phone rang.

***During this next scene, the 3rd anniversary song is being played. It made the entire scene so much more emotional and touching but also sad. The BGM in this whole chapter was meticulously chosen.***

Kiro: Good evening, Miss Chips.

Kiro: How did you know that I wanted to eat canelé? When I ate it yesterday, tears were about to come out.

MC: Tears from the corners of your mouth? ***T/N: She means drooling***

Kiro: Hehe, hurry up and remove the camera you installed on me!

MC: If there really was a webcam, that would be great….by the way, how are you today? ***Woah, woah, MC!!! So you want to upgrade from sneaky pictures to sneaky videos? MY GIRL!!!***

Kiro: Of course, I’m doing well!

MC: That’s good. It seems that the retreat is working effectively.

Hearing what I said, he laughed. His voice full of energy.

But we both know that these are all tacit masks.

Kiro is too clever. He must know how weak his excuses for shutting himself up are.

So weak that he doesn’t believe them himself.

When 7:30 came around, Kiro stopped talking. Then suddenly he spoke solemnly.

Kiro: Miss Chips, I want to play some songs for you.

MC: Okay! I haven’t heard you play a song in a long time.

Gentle guitar music came slowly from the other end of the phone. I imagined Kiro playing right now and closed my eyes, feeling a little nostalgic.

Soon, one song was finished.

Kiro: Sitting on the bed and closing my eyes just now, it felt like I was in a concert.

MC: That’s not right. The audience hasn’t arrived yet and you can’t have a concert with just you.

Kiro: Then come to the special concert. A concert dedicated by Kiro himself.

Kiro: Miss Chips is the only special guest.

MC: That’s not very monotonous.

Kiro: How could it be?

Kiro: Miss Chips, are you standing by the window right now? Can you see the stars outside?

Listening to what he said, I immediately got up and went to the balcony.

The stars outside the window twinkled and hung in the night sky like little lights.

MC: I can!!!

Kiro: My favorite stage is like this starry sky.

Kiro: That was my first stage. It was not very big and crowded with people.

Kiro: That day was the same as today, a sky full of stars. There was a long passage leading to the main stage.

Kiro: Every time I stepped on a square, a star will light up under my feet.

Kiro: The audience turned on the flash from the back of their phones and the whole world seemed to be connected into a sea of stars.

Kiro: In that moment, I told myself to shine in this sea of stars and become the brightest one.

I slowly listened to him talking about his beloved stage and the brightest star in his heart.

I was on this end of the phone, looking at the starry night outside. I could feel him holding my hand and leading me towards the stage.

I saw him piously touching the places he knew and missed the most, holding the guitar and standing in the most radiant place.

His entire being seems to be shining.

Kiro: Miss Producer, would you say I’ve done it?

MC: Of course.

MC: You did it long ago.

Kiro laughed lightly. This time the guitar music was accompanied by his singing.

His voice is so soft and sincere, like some kind of long-distance reunion. Like a farewell to something.

After a dozen songs were sung one after another, Kiro’s voice was already a little hoarse.

MC: ….Since it’s a concert, can I still have an encore?

Kiro: (chuckles) Since it’s MC’s request, I would definitely not refuse it.

Kiro: This is the last song called “Confession of the Stars”.

***T/N: Decided to include both the EN and CN versions of the lyrics. I’m not a songwriter so the CN version is what Google Translate gave me. I really love Bian Jiang’s singing in this scene so do give it a listen 😉. Also, I love how there’s no BGM music playing while he sings because I feel like that would just take away some of the emotion.***

Kiro: (EN version) “I got a song that I wanna sing for you~ It may not be perfect, but it will have to do~”

“Dreaming your dreams and going your own way~ Sometimes you feel lonely, sometimes heartbreak…”

(CN version) “There is a song I want to sing for you~ For you who work hardest in the world~”

“On the road towards your dream~ Sometimes you feel a little lonely….”

***Now I can’t hear this song the same way ever again. WHY, KIRO!?! TELL ME WHY!?!? YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BREAK MY HEART!!! TAT***

When I heard the familiar, leisurely melody, I was overwhelmed. The song seemed to pass through time, embracing me tenderly.

I always feel that something will end after this song. I want to try my best to hold onto it, but I can only grasp at nothingness. ***FORESHADOWING!!! Actually, this entire “concert” is.***

Eventually, I could only wait quietly for it to come to an end.

Kiro: (sighs) The concert is over. Thank you, Miss Chips.

Kiro: (In the sweetest, most tender voice): Good night.

-End of Part 4-

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mlqc season 2 #mlqc season 2 spoilers #translations #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #kiro #kiro spoilers #love and producer #koi to producer #mr love queen's choice #mr love game #mr love dream date #mldd

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years ago

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Girls play Games, Women don’t. - pt.10 - final part

A/N: Okay, so here we are. I still haven’t started to write it, so this is just before part and after I finish and I’ll see if I’m going to make a epilogue? Or is it a prologue? Damn. I gotta google. - It’s epilogue. I knew that, I just had to be sure. --- Finished. So freaking long but it was all just as I imagined. Even better tbh. I think we all deserve a good epilogue out of this.

It was managable. It wasn’t perfect but you were a Slytherin and Slytherins are definetly known for their resourcefulness.

You were in your most comfortable sweatpants. They weren’t yours, they were Sirius’ and he didn’t mind sharing... to your knowledge. It was steamingly hot and you could barely breathe in the T-shirt, also Sirius’. Everything was from Sirius’ because you really hadn’t had a chance going back to your parents’ house to gather your things and leave peacfully.

You had just finished with all the exams Dumbledore was kind to give you so late in July but after the results, you are sure you will graduate and have your Hogwarts’ diploma.

Lately, after the exams you had done nothing but sit around this old, disintegrating apartment as Sirius just started his internship job in Auror’s office. He was usually late home and gone before you woke up. You two barely spent any time together but when you did he was always filling up the paperwork. He kept appologizing to you and saying he will make it up to you, which you didn’t mind but still missed him dearly when he left.

Now, you waited for the results. When you get results, you get your diploma and when you get your diploma, you can get yourself a job.

Until then, you have to deal with this apartment.

So you did.

You took the television from the unpacked box and with some hard effort moved it closer to the electrical socket. Since the cabel was short, you had to push the big box closer and was finally abel to turn it on. When you did, you skipped programe from programe on the buttons under the TV screen- you had no idea where the remote was- until you found the music programe.

Smiling to some background music, you stood back up and looked at the piles of unapacked boxes. “Let’s do this.” you smiled and started with the living room.

---

Sirius was climbing up the stairs, panting and looking up at the pile of stairs that awaited him. He was exhausted from today’s work so much, he was afraid of apparating. His brain was drained as if the Ministry squeezed every bit of them until they’re dry like the desert. He just wanted to provide for you. He wanted you to have everything you want, not this apartment he had to rent and ask James for some money to lent. It wasn’t fair but he had to. For you.

He finally managed to get to the door, putting the key in and opening them.

He heard a music playing and he immediately sobered up. He was not tired as before since his ear felt something so relaxing and familiar to his ears.

‘ I know your eyes in the morning sun I feel you touch me in the pouring rain And the moment that you wander far from me I want to feel you in my arms again... ‘

He smiled at the song. Bee Gees? He didn’t think you would know them.

He walked into the living room, finding sofa cleaner than before, a coffee table in front sinking into a furry rug he had no idea where it came from. The coffee table was glass and it had an adorable little cloth in the middle with a candle and two remote controls. He looked to his left and found the TV sitting on a small chest with two drawers.

That chest was broken? How did you make it stand up like that?

It was at that question his nostrills sense a nice scent of roasted chicken, leading him into the kitchen.

He walked to find you standing behind the counter, cutting the paprika fairly quickly with the sharp knife, your fingers carefully hidden under your joints. Your hair were up in a bun with a few strands sticking out and a headband around your head. You jumped your head to the song, singing softly.

‘ How deep is your love, how deep is your love How deep is your love? I really mean to learn 'Cause we're living in a world of fools Breaking us down when they all should let us be We belong to you and me.’

He let you continue without knowing he was standing behind you. He was afraid that if he says anything, you might jump and cut yourself with the knife.

The song changed to Brandy by Looking Glass and you started gently thursting your hips left and right, catching Sirius’ attention. You wore his sweatpants that fell so perfectly down your wide hips, hugging your curves just in the right places. Seemingly, you cut his shirt into a crop top, showing your lacy bra that peeked under the shirt.

Sirius couldn’t help himself to grin. Especially when the song changed again: Cheryl by Yung Gravy.

You put the knife down and grabbed the wooden spoon, sliding to the pot but not for stirring. “ Juice, sauce, little bit of dressing (Ooh) Ice, wrist, little bit of flexing..” you opened the lid and finally stirred the sauce, shimmying your shoulders as you did and making Sirius laugh behind you.

You jumped at the sound of his chuckle, looking at him with wide eyes and blushing completely red into your cheeks.

“You’re home!?” you exclaimed, touching your messy hair and looking down at your outfit, knowing you cut his shirt in half. “I- uh- it was really hot and uh-” he started to approach you with opened arms, grinning cheekily. “I meant to change before you came- uh- you’re-” he was holding you in his and kissing you softly on your lips. “- early.” you smiled as he pulled away, putting his hand on your cheek and brushing his thumb across it.

The song changed again: George Harrison - My Sweet Lord

“Sweet Lord indeed.” he looked you up and down and started to kiss you again and as much as that pleased you, your sauce might got overcooked.

Giggling to yourself, you pushed him away a bit, still holding him around the hips as both of you swayed to the pot. “Oh, Lover as much as you want to, the sauce is dearly important.” you gave him a peck and stirred again, turning off the stove and moving the pot on the other side, letting it cool of.

“You did all of this in one day?” he asked, looking around the kitchen and how brightly it shined.

You looked over your shoulder, catching his eye and winking at him. “I had nothing better to do anyway.” you grabbed the apple cider and olive oil, mixing the salad.

“Can you just put the plates and cutlery?” you glanced at the drawers to the side and he didn’t think twice to argue. If he was honest, he was hungry just as he was exhausted.

“Don’t mind if I do.” he quickly set up the table as you turned to leave the kitchen.

“Okay, I’ll just go get dressed-”

“Dressed?” he quickly took your hand and pulled you back. “I prefer you in my clothes.”

It was your time to smile cheekily at him, tapping his cheek with your finger and matching his grin. “No, you don’t.” you gently removed his hands from your waist and left to your bedroom.

Surprised, he kept staring after you, wanting to go see but objecting himself. “I’m marrying this woman.” he kept smiling and hearing something tumble in the bedroom.

It didn’t take you longer than 15 minutes when you walked back into the living room, finding him in the balcony, leaning over the fence and smoking his cigar. As much as you hated him smoking, you knew it was the only thing that kept him awake enough to spend some time with you.

You followed as quietly as you could, placing your hands over his eyes and kissing his ear gently. You could feel him smile just by feeling his cheeks touch the edges of your hand. He put his hands over yours and turned around slowly.

When he opened his eyes, he found you wearing a silk, red dress, which hugged your hips, your breast and your thighs. The edge was a few inches above the knee, your hair pinned back and some curls nicely loose in front of you. They were still a bit messy but you did think you had more time before he came home. With no foundation, the cream made your skin glow in the light just perfectly, an eyeshadow gorgeously done yet never seen on you before, mascara outlining your eyelashes and black underline exposing your twinkling eyes he adored so deeply.

“Wow.” he marveled, taking your hands in his and putting them behind his neck. “I wonder what would happen if I was late?”

“You’d probably faint.” you joked and he let out a laugh.

He kept looking at you, his hands on your hips, then on your face to your hair to everywhere they could touch. “You look absolutely stunning.” he kept looking and touching, as if you weren’t even real.

“Thank you.” you blushed again, giving him a soft peck on the lips and causing his stomach to burst from all the butterflies.

He felt his hands clammy, his heartbeat rise up as the next tought entered his mind.

You noticed his uncomfort a bit and pulled yourself away. Insecurity entered your mind and you quickly felt too much exposed to him. “Is something wrong?” you asked and he shot his head up to you, finding you just as confused as he was when he heard you listen to Bee Gees.

“No, no, no, no. Nothing is- well-” he cut himself off, looking up at the ceiling and contemplating. “There is something missing with the whole outfit.” he grinned and you felt a bit angered by the comment.

You crossed your arms over your chest, giving him the intimidated, furious look you gave to most of the people that tried to control what you should wear yet there was something in the way his eyes avoided you and his mouth kept twitching into a smirk that let your retorts keep themselves in your mind and not on your mouth.

He reached his hand in his pocket, shaking it as he struggled to get it out but when he did, it appeared to paralyze you completely.

It was a small, velvet box and it didn’t take an great aritmanist to figure out what was inside. You slapped your hands over your mouth, preventing any odd noises to come out as he went on one knee and opened the books. He smiled at the ring but smiled brighter and wider when his eyes met yours.

“I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to introduce the two of you but as patient I thought I was, tonight made me realize that I will definetly marry you... if you will have me.” he smiled as your eyes started to tear up. You tried to stay calm, tried your best to wait for the next few lines and as you did, he took a deep breath and asked: “(y/n)(y/l/n), will you marry me?”

You started nodding franatically, tears of joy escaping your eyes as he put the rind on and stood up. You jumped into his arms, kissing him and looking at him as he did the same. “Yes! Yes I will!”

“Thank God!” He breahted out, causing you to laugh.

“I told you before I would, didn’t I?” you pulled away, framing his head as he continued to beam at you.

“I wasn’t sure if that was you or the adrenalin back then.”

You started laughing again. “It was me, silly.” you started to kiss him again. He deepened the kisses as time passed, letting his hands roam your body until they found themselves carrying into the bedroom, completely forgetting about the cooked dinner in the kitchen....

---

He continued to kiss your bare shoulder after. His hand travelled up and down your hip and thigh, then finally up your arm and to your hand. “You’re so much more flexible than I thought.” he growled into your ear, nibbling on it.

“And that’s after renovating the whole apartment.” you started to tease, interlacing your fingers with his. “Imagine what I would do to you if I’ve done nothihng but wait for you.” you turned your head to him only sligthly as he burried his nose into your neck.

“Oh, woman. You’re going to make me go crazy with that talk.” he kept nuzzling closer, making you laugh.

You turned around, removing his head from your shoulder and cupping it in your hands. He kept looking at you with that grey storm of his, softly calming down into a calm ocean water. His front curls fell on his forehead and his lips kept kissing your palms. He took your right hand into his and kept kissing it until his lips got stuck on the diamond ring. He kissed it gently and looked back up at you.

“Now, you’re really stuck with me.” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“Or you’re the one stuck with me.” you raised an eyebrow.

“We’re stuck with each other.” he continued.

“Oh, what a shame.” you smiled as he kissed you again and again, never getting enough.

All until something fell from the other room.

Both of you stopped to look at the door, glancing at each other and hearing another object- plate- shatter on the floor.

He got up the bed quickly, grabbing his underwear and pants as you did the same, grabbing the sweatpants you wore before and a larger shirt to cover most of your body. He gabbed his wand first, then passed down yours. Before he opened the door, he looked back at you and already found you more prepared than him.

“Do you-”

“No. You open, I go first.” you cut him off, tightening the grip around your wand and waiting for Sirius to open the door.

He smiled at your fierceness and prepared himself as well. That’s what he trains for- he opened the door and you stormed out and into the kitchen, pointing your wand at the dark figure sitting on the chair and eating the dinner you prepared for your fiance.

Sirius quickly followed, standing next to you with his wand pointed at the man as well.

“The chicken is done nicely... yet I see it missing something.” he grabbed the napkin and patted his lips as he stood up. “Curry maybe?”

“What are you doing here?” you growled, focusing your wand at him and going through all sorts of spells in your head.

His eyes glanced at your ring finger yet no reaction was readable enough to tell you what he thought. For you, it wasn’t needed to see a reaction. You already know what he felt; fury and betrayal.

“Congratulate you.” his voice spoke monotone and his lips curved into a smirk. “When’s the wedding?”

“Why are you here?” you persisted, trying to stay as calm as possible.

“Who’s the dramatic one now?” he gestured his hand to your wand as you rolled your eyes at him, scoffing.

“Must take after you.”

“So you still imply me as your father?”

“Do you still imply me as your daughter?”

“Heavily but yes...” he sat back down, leaning back and crossing his fingers. “Disappointed... but yes.” he quirked an eyebrow than glanced at Sirius, who only glared at him. “You’re training to be an Auror yet she’s the one in charge here?”

“Yes.” Sirius replied through his teeth, seething at him.

He looked back at you, placing his locked hands on the table. “I would have gotten you a stronger man than him. Someone who could take charge in your marriage... someone-”

“I don’t want a dominant partner. I want an equal.” you cut him off as he fell back in surprise. “He knows what I want and I want to know what the hell are you doing in our home?”

He stood back up, rubbing his chin and leaning against the chair. His eyes were now narrowed, filled with something much more darker than before. “You know what I want.”

“No.”

His mouth twitched.

“I am not opening the stupid box for you, especially if it’s really filled with so much more dark magic as it is rumored to be.”

He let out a chuckle, a wicked one indeed. He stared at you for one minute than the next he was already gone and holding Sirius with the tip of his wand pointing at his head.

“NO!” you screamed but he only laughed.

“Hey, Sirius.” he whispered, tighting his grip around Sirius’ neck. “Maybe you should say hi to Devon McKingley for me.”

At the mention of that name, you lost it. You completely lost it, disarming your father immediately and stupefying him the next. He fell against the wall next to the television and the next thing you knew, you were using the crucifying curse on him, causing him to laugh and scream at the same time.

Sirius behind you was gasping for air and strugling to get up as you approached your father, tears falling down your cheeks. “You think you can kill another man in my life, just because YOU DON’T LIKE IT!!” you bellowed, making his laugh turn into pain with the strenght of the curse.

You stopped, letting him breathe a bit.

“You don’t control me anymore.” you squeezed his cheeks together. “You don’t intimidate me, nor scare me.” you growled and pushed his head away, right into the wall so the sight spun in front of him. “You think I’m still your little girl trying to play your stupid little games, daddy?” you cooed the last word, provoking him a bit and earning a spiteful glare. “Girls play games. Women don’t.” you walked away, back to Sirius who took a hold of you, looking into your eyes as the Ministry popped into your apartment, due to the underage use of magic that was tracked from your apartment.

It didn’t take you any effort to explain. People knew, all the wizards in the world knew what your father has done. Dumbledore went public with all the cases months ago. Your father was wanted for a long time but now? Now he was taken to Azkaban where he will rot till his death.

#sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #Sirius Black

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somethinginthewayiam · 4 years ago

Text

What happens in New York... Part 4 - The event

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Anna (OFC)

Warnings: none

Words: 4859

Summary: The day of Anna’s first solo-event had finally arrived and she couldn’t be more nervous. But not as nervous as she was fearing that Sebastian would actually show up and what effect that would have on her...

Previous chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Anna? I’ve got a few messages for you”, Sandra appeared in Anna’s office door. As Anna looked up from her laptop, she found the familiar expression on Sandras face, the one she had for the last few days. “Again?”, Anna asked with an annoyed sigh. “He’s very persistent”, Sandra said with a knowing smile and put down the messages on Annas desk.

“Did you tell him to stop calling?”, Anna asked. “Yes, I did…just like I did the last 4 days”, Sandra mentioned. “I don’t have time for this, the Hastings party is in two days and there’s still a lot of work to do, as I’m sure you’re well aware of”, Anna leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Easy boss, people might think you actually care about him”, she said with a wink and walked out the office.

The next second Libby, the intern, walked in with a big, beautiful flower bouquet and Sandra followed her right back in again. “Who are these for?”, Anna asked surprised. “They’re for you”, Libby said. “From who?”, Sandra asked. “They didn’t say, but I saw a card in there”, Libby replied as she put them down on Anna’s desk. “They’re really heavy, sorry”, she apologized for placing them without asking for permission. “It’s okay, thank you for bringing them in”, Anna said with a thankful smile.

Now Sandra and Libby stood in front of her desk, waiting for Anna to read the card. “I can take it from here, thank you”, Anna said with a raised eyebrow. “Come on, you can’t do that to us”, Libby whined. “Who is this guy and why does he keep calling? And probably send those flowers”, Sandra asked. “Out, now”, Anna said playfully angry and pointed towards the door. She tried to look serious but it was hard to hold back a smile.

As soon as they had closed the door behind them, not without a lot of whining, she wanted to go back to work, but her eyes kept wandering over to the big bouquet. She wanted to not care who the flowers were from, but she knew. She knew they were from him. “I don’t care, I don’t care”, she mumbled to herself and focused on the computer screen in front of her and the e-mail she was about to write before Sandra had come in.

“Fuck”, she hissed and got up from her office chair. She walked around her desk and pulled the little card out from between the flowers. “Please take my calls, you know I won’t stop trying. Looking forward to seeing you on Saturday, maybe we can talk then. Sebastian”, she read. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare!”, she snapped at the card and threw it into the trash. She took the vase with the flowers and carried it out of her office and put it on Sandras desk with a loud bang. “I’m allergic”, Anna explained shortly as Sandra and Libby looked at her with big eyes. “Hold all calls that don’t concern the party”, she said and rushed back into her office, slamming the door shot behind her.

“Don’t forget the centerpieces have to be exactly in the middle, the calla lily facing the stage”, Anna advised the staff at the Roosevelt hotel. She still couldn’t believe she managed to book the Grand Ballroom for tonight. Everything looked incredible and she actually had to hold back a tear when she saw the black and white napkins neatly folded on the dining tables.

“Anna”, she heard Sandra behind her. “Why are you still here? Gladys is waiting for you upstairs for hair and make-up. The first guests arrive in little over an hour”, Sandra scolded her as she walked up to Anna in a simple but gorgeous black and white cocktail dress. Anna looked at the phone in her hand to check the time. “Shit, you’re right”, Anna said with big eyes.

“Go, I’ll take care of the rest”, Sandra said and waved towards the door to signal her to finally leave. “Thank you…and you look amazing”, Anna shouted over her shoulder as she almost ran out of the ballroom and over to the elevators to go up to the hotel rooms. The office had rented a room for the employees who worked tonight to get ready for the event.

Anna had picked up her dress this morning before she had come here for the final preparations. All day long, she was running from the ballroom to the kitchen to the staff area, checking in on the preparations and was briefing the staff for tonight. Now it was time to get ready herself.

Up in the room she took a quick shower and as soon as she was in her bathrobe, Gladys and her team started on hair and make-up. “How are you doing, honey? Everything alright downstairs?”, Gladys asked while she parted Annas wet hair. “It’s looking good so far. It were a busy few weeks”, Anna said and tried to relax for the next thirty to forty minutes she would spend in this room. “You look tired, but don’t worry, no one will see it after I’m done with you, honey”, Gladys said with a big smile and patted her shoulder. The conversation ended as soon as she turned on the blow dryer.

Gladys’ assistant painted Annas nails in a nude pink and another assistant started on her face. Anna endured the whole procedure with a bit of pleasure. It was nice to get dolled up and that she was able to unwind for a few minutes, the night would be stressful enough.

When Anna had put on her dress, she looked at her in the big mirror where she was able to see herself from top to bottom. “You look absolutely stunning, honey, not to toot my own horn”, Gladys said behind her as she looked at the finished job. Annas brown long hair was straightened and put up in a high pony tail, a strand of her hair was wrapped around the hair tie. Her dress was a long, black satin with a heart-shaped décolleté and a broad strap went diagonally from the center of it over her left shoulder to the seam on her back. Her eyes were framed with a small line of eyeliner and a subtle smoky eye.

“Thank you so much, Gladys, this looks amazing”, Anna thanked her and gave her a careful hug to not ruin the dress or her make-up. “Now go and have a great party”, Gladys said and waved her goodbye as Anna left the room. When she rode down in the elevator, she took a deep breath. This was it, the event she was planning for so long was finally happening. This was her moment to show her boss Clarice that she was capable of so much more than just babysitting celebrities. She straightened her back, put her chin up and walked out of the elevator as the doors opened with a little DING.

Anna walked into the ballroom and again she was blown away by the amazing work the staff had done in decorating the room. Now that the lights were dimmed and everything was ready for the big opening, it looked even better than before. “Wow Anna, you look absolutely stunning”, she heard Sandra, who was coming towards her. “Thank you”, she blushed a bit. “Here’s your earpiece, let me help you with the transmitter”, Sandra said and handed her a little, skin colored earpiece and attached the little, flat transmitter inside her dress at the seam at her back.

“So, Sebastian Stan, huh?”, Sandra said as she stood behind Anna, who was placing the earpiece in her right ear. “What?”, she asked shocked and her whole body tensed up. She tried really hard not to show how rattled she was that Sandra had just mentioned his name. “Oh my god, you’re blushing”, Sandra giggled as she came around and stood in front of her again.

“I found the card in your trash can”, she explained when Anna looked at her with big, questioning eyes. “And why-why were you going through my trash?”, she asked, angry about her stuttering. “I was putting the new messages on your desk when you were out and accidently knocked over your pen-thingy and they fell into the trash can. And when I fished them out I found the card. And when I read his name and about the party, I checked the guest list and the only Sebastian I could find was either Sebastian Stan or 73-years-old Sebastian Moskovits and, I mean, come on. Then I googled him and my, oh my, Anna, you lucky girl”, Sandra went on and on as Annas breath quickened and her eyes got even bigger.

“And why would I be a lucky girl?”, Anna asked and tried to play dumb here. “This guy really wants you and he’s hot with a capital H”, Sandra gushed over him. “Why does he need to talk to you and why is he so eager about it?”, Sandra kept asking, totally ignoring the fact that Anna was uncomfortable with this conversation. “There is nothing that needs to be talked about. I don’t know what he wants and I have WAY more important things to deal with tonight. For example, my first solo flight you should be helping me with instead of nagging about some guy who doesn’t know what No means”, Anna put her in her place and Sandra at least had the decency to look guilty.

“I’m sorry Anna, I didn’t mean to be rude”, Sandra said with a small voice. Anna took a deep breath. “No, I’m sorry. Look, I’m just nervous and I need you at you’re A-game tonight to keep ME at my A-game, okay?”, Anna said and Sandra just nodded. “Come here”, Anna mumbled and pulled Sandra in a tight hug. “Let’s focus on tonight and afterwards, I’ll tell you everything at a drink. God knows we will need it!”, Anna said with a wink and Sandra smiled again. “Anna, the Hastings have arrived”, she heard through her earpiece from Theresa, who would be working at the hotels entrance tonight to welcome the guests and ticking them off her guest list.

“Thank you, I’m on my way”, she answered by pushing a little button on the earpiece which allowed her to speak to Theresa. They worked like little walkie-talkies. “Showtime”, Anna said with raised eyebrows and a big smile as she wrapped her arm around Sandra and walked with her out of the ballroom.

Anna let her eyes wander over the chatting crowd. The guests had sat down for the dinner and Mr and Mrs Hastings had just stepped onto the stage to give their opening speech of the night. So far everything had gone as smoothly as possible except for a few mishaps that Anna was able to cover up pretty quickly.

But what annoyed Anna the most was that the only thing she was able to think about was if Sebastian would actually show up. Was he already here? Would he come at all? If he was here, would he really try to have this conversation she was trying to avoid so eagerly?

“Anna, we’re ready with the appetizers”, she heard through her earpiece. “Don’t let anyone come out before the Hastings are done with their speech”, Anna answered by pushing on the earpiece-button.

Anna stood across from the stage behind the last row of the dining tables, in the shadows from where she could oversee anything but nobody would notice her; just how it was supposed to be.

“Hello beautiful”, she heard behind her in a familiar voice and for a second she thought it was coming through her earpiece, but then she felt his presence before she even saw him. She took a vague look over her shoulder and out of the corner of her eyes, she could only see that he was standing close to her but not so close that it would look suspicious.

Both of them were looking towards the stage, pretending to listen to the speech but none of them were really paying attention. “I see you came”, Anna was the first one to speak. “Told you I would”, he replied and she could hear his smug smile in his voice. “And are you here alone or did your ex not give you a heads-up again?”, Anna asked with her arms crossed in front of her chest and wasn’t able to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“Classy”, Sebastian said sarcastically. “You’re not qualified to tell me something about class”, she said and turned around a bit more to shoot him an angry look, but she got distracted by his looks. Sebastian was wearing a black suit and tie with a black shirt. Anna had to swallow hard to not let a moan escape her throat.

“The ballroom looks great”, he said as she had turned around again. “Mh-hm”, she just hummed. She had to try hard to keep the bitchy look off her face. Anna took a little step forward out of an inner urge to get some space between him and her, but Sebastian followed right up.

“I can only say this once again. We are broken up for several months now and it was just bad timing that she was picking up her stuff when you were there”, he whispered behind her shoulder, just loud enough so only she could hear it. She immediately tensed up. Anna wanted to believe him, but how could she after what she had seen? And a gorgeous man like Sebastian, you never had just to yourself. The worst thing about all this was that she was jealous. She wanted him for herself although she knew she couldn’t and sure as hell shouldn’t.

“You should go to your seat, dinner is about to start”, she responded to his new attempt of explaining what had happened the last time they were together. “Alright, I get it, you’ve got more important things to do tonight and I made my point. But if you think about it again, you will realize that I’m telling the truth here”, he said to her.

“And you look gorgeous by the way”, he mumbled as he leaned over once more and as she turned around to look at him, only saw his back as he walked away. She quickly turned back around; she did not want to know where he was sitting because then she would only look for him. But she couldn’t hold back the smile that appeared on her face.

“Anna, we need you in the kitchen”, she barely noticed the voice coming from her earpiece, she was too caught up in her thoughts and emotions. “Anna, they’re looking for you”, Sandra suddenly appeared in front of her and snapped Anna out of her thoughts. “What? Where?”, she asked as she focused on Sandras face. “They need you in the kitchen”, her assistant repeated. “Oh, okay, sure, I’m on my way”, she said and repeated it through her earpiece. When Anna started walking, Sandra followed her right up. “That Sebastian guy looks even better in real life”, she mumbled right next to her. “Shut up”, Anna hissed, which caused Sandra to giggle as she tried to keep up with Anna’s fast pace.

“Tell that Mickey-waiter-guy that he should be a bit more invisible, he keeps standing in the way of the guests and Libby should check in with Theresa”, Anna explained to her assistant, standing a few feet away from the stage. The band had just started playing and the first people made their way towards the dancefloor. “Okay, got it. Oh, and hottie on 9 o’clock”, Sandra said with a wink and a nod to her left. Anna immediately turned her head and saw Sebastian slowly coming towards her, keeping his distance while she was talking to Sandra. “I let you get to it”, Sandra winked again and walked away with a big grin before Anna was able to hold her back.

“Hey”, Sebastian appeared next to her and now that she was able to see him from head to toe, her breath was almost caught in her throat because, my god, he looked good. She immediately bit her lip which did not go unnoticed by him. “Found you”, he said with a smirk. “And I thought I was hiding so well”, she countered with a smug grin on her face. “Looks like everything’s going great so far”, he said and took a look around the room.

Some people had started dancing, some were sitting at their tables chatting away. To Anna it sounded like he wanted to start a conversation with her. “Don’t you have someone else to talk to tonight? Doing a little mingling? I’m sure your manager would approve of that more than talking to the event planner all the time”, she said when she remembered that he had told her that his manager had thought it would be a good idea for him to show up at such charity events when she had found the invitation on his fridge.

“Hey, it’s my birthday today, you should feel honored that I came at all tonight”, Sebastian teased her. “I’m sure the Hastings Foundation is very happy about your appearance at this event and is grateful for your donation”, Anna said with a professional smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Sebastian opened his mouth to reply to her snarky comment, but they got interrupted by a female voice.

“Oh, Anna, you outdid yourself tonight”, Mrs. Hastings said as she came towards Anna through the crowd. She greeted her with little air kisses left and right to her face. Sebastian had to hold back an eye roll. Instead he put on his best smile and just stood next to Anna.

“I’m glad you’re happy with the result”, Anna thanked her, honestly relieved that Mrs. Hastings seemed to be pleased with her work on the event tonight. “The room looks wonderful and I’ve gotten so many compliments about the organization, although I didn’t have anything to do with it, so I’m passing them right on to you”, Mrs. Hastings laughed and touched Annas forearm. Sebastian couldn’t help but being a bit jealous of that lady to being able to touch Anna casually without her freaking out.

“Mrs. Hastings, thank you so much for the invitation, it is such a wonderful party”, Sebastian joined the conversation. Anna shot him a little side look to show him that she did not approve of that but she couldn’t say anything in front of Mrs. Hastings. “Oh it is my pleasure. Thank you so much for coming”, she said to him, holding out her hand for an old fashioned kiss on the hand and Sebastian followed right up. You could clearly see that Mrs. Hastings had no idea who he was or why he was invited, but she covered it up with an elegant smile that she had perfected over the years in these spheres of society. And his good looks did the rest.

“Didn’t our Anna do a wonderful job tonight?”, she asked him, completely captivated by his steel blue eyes. “Yes, our Anna is a remarkable woman”, Sebastian said and had his eyes on Anna the whole time. Anna wasn’t able to look at him and couldn’t keep her cheeks from blushing. “Sebastian here just told me that he is really looking forward to make a very generous donation to your foundation, Mrs. Hastings”, she said to change the subject, but also to make a little side blow to Sebastian. “Oh, how wonderful”, Mrs. Hastings said delighted. “Yes, I can’t wait, but I also told this lovely lady here that I would only do it, if she would let me have the next dance with her”, Sebastian turned to face Anna and winked at her, but so that only she could see that. With clenching teeth, she shot him an angry look.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Anna. You should have some fun tonight too, darling”, Mrs. Hastings said and patted her forearm again. “Oh, I’m having fun, Mrs. Hastings. I love doing my job and making sure that everything is going well tonight”, Anna said with a wide, professional, fake smile. “Oh, enough work for tonight, everything is going great. You should loosen up a bit and have fun too”, Mrs. Hastings said. “That’s what I always tell her”, Sebastian said with a cheeky grin and made Mrs. Hastings laugh.

“You should really dance with this lovely man”, she said and pulled Anna a bit closer, “If you don’t dance with him, I will”, she said with a wink and took a step back again. “Oh, Sebastian, it was a pleasure to meet you and thank you again for your donation, I am absolutely delighted. If you would excuse me now, I just saw my lovely husband eating one of those shrimp cocktails again and the doctor specifically told him not to overdo it”, Mrs. Hastings shook Sebastians hand and took off.

“You heard the lady, you should have some fun tonight”, Sebastian said and took a step closer to her to guide her to the dance floor. “Oh, in your dreams! I’m not going to dance with you…I’m working right now”, she hissed at him and took a step back. Sebastian looked at her for a second then dropped his head, silently laughing. “Oh, okay, I get it”, he said. “What? What do you get?”, she asked sarcastically. “You’re afraid you can’t bring it on the dance floor and I clearly can and you don’t want to embarrass yourself”, Sebastian explained. Oh, he did not just say that!

“For your information, mister, I can very well bring it”, she said as she took a step closer again and poked his chest with her index finger. Sebastian looked at her with an amused smile. He had her right where he wanted her. “Then prove me wrong and be my guest”, he said to her with an inviting gesture towards the dancefloor. Anna glared at him and bit her lip as she thought about it. If she would chicken out now, she would never hear the end of it.

“Then bring it on, pretty boy”, she said, turned around and walked towards the dance floor without taking his hand or even waiting if he was following her. “You really think I’m pretty?”, he asked in a playfully innocent voice.

Just as Sebastian joined her, the band started to play “I’ve got you under my skin” by Frank Sinatra and he pulled her close with his right hand on her back and took her hand in his left one. “What are you doing?”, she asked and wanted to take a step back, but he kept her close. “I’m slow dancing with you…because it’s a slow song”, he answered and it sounded like he was explaining it to a four-year-old. “Oh, okay”, Anna shook her head lightly. Was she just being stupid about this?

People around her were dancing, why shouldn’t she? She was clearly overthinking this. Sebastian and Anna were the only ones who knew that they had slept together. Now, they were just two people at a charity event, slow dancing together because that’s what you do at those kind of events.

This one dance would be over in no time and she could survive one song. It’s just Sebastian and not some crazy person…well…

To avoid eye contact with him, Anna looked over his right shoulder and focused on the wall all the way in the back, but that led to her listening to the lyrics of the song.

I'd tried so not to give in I said to myself this affair never will go so well But why should I try to resist when baby I know so well I've got you under my skin

Anna swallowed hard. She felt like she was caught in the act, that everybody would know what she and Sebastian had done. This song felt like a confession performed by the singer of the big band playing on stage. Her grip on his shoulder tightened without her even noticing, but Sebastian sure did. He looked at her face. Anna seemed completely zoned out, her eyes fixed on something in the background. He could actually see the many thoughts running through her mind being portrayed on her face. Sebastian didn’t dare to interrupt her and just kept swaying her to the beat of the music.

I would sacrifice anything come what might For the sake of having you near In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night

Frank was right, she was already too caught up with Sebastian. She thought about him more than she wanted to admit to herself and was too tired to fight it any longer. It was fact that she had slept with Sebastian in Philadelphia AFTER she had found out that he was one of her guests, well knowing that she was violating her contract and probably sacrificing her career. And if she was being honest to herself when she looked back to that rainy day about a week ago, she had felt relieved when Sebastian “found” her on that day instead of getting a cab. She was so tired of fighting against what her mind said and her body wanted.

“Alright, I believe you”, she suddenly said and Sebastian looked down on her face. “Really? What changed your mind?”, he asked surprised. “Frank did”, she said and a light smiled appeared on her face. Sebastian looked confused and Annas smile grew wider. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Just be happy that I believe you”, she patted his shoulder and her right hand squeezed his left hand reassuringly.

“Well, since we’re on good terms again, I wanted to ask you something”, he said and spun her around to move a little over the dancefloor since the mood was a bit lightened up. “Don’t push your luck”, she said with a playful frown. “Since it’s my birthday today, my friends and I are going for drinks after this. I’d love for you to join me…us”, he said and stumbled a bit over the last words. Anna couldn’t hold back a smile. She was flattered that he wanted her there.

“That sounds nice but I’m still at work. I can’t go until at least the Hastings have left and they are known to party hard and long”, she said with a lowered voice, wiggling eyebrows and a little giggle. “We’re also known to party hard and long. You can catch up later”, he said with shrugging shoulders and sounded hopeful. “I don’t know”, she said unsure. It was a fight between mind and body again. Her mind clearly said that it was a bad idea to go with him where they had alcohol, but her body clearly was all up for it. The way their bodies moved together to the music, him holding her close as he spun her around again, was something she didn’t want to end.

“Come on, it’s my birthday”, he begged with a playful pout. It looked like he knew exactly what that did to her and he did it just because, but she didn’t mind. “Okay, I’ll think about it”, she gave in. The smile on Sebastians face couldn’t be brighter. He spun her around and dipped her backwards as the last bars of the song floated across the room.

And each time I do just the thought of you Makes me stop just before I begin Because I've got you under my skin yes I got you under my skin

“I guess, I have to get back to work now”, Anna said after the song had ended and the band already started to slip into the next one. “Yes, of course”, Sebastian said and took a respectful step back. “Thank you for the dance, it was very nice”, she said and suddenly felt shy and nervous like a teenager after her first date. “Yes, it really was”, he said and his smile was so pure and honest and beautiful that Anna had to smile herself, it was so addictive.

“I better go now…but come find me before you leave, okay?”, she said and took a step closer to give him a little peck on the cheek, careful not to leave any lipstick on him. “I will”, he said and his eyes felt intense as they found hers. “And don’t forget to make your donation”, she tried to break the tension with a joke so that she started walking and not jump him right in the middle of the dancefloor. That’s why she quickly turned around and walked across the room, over to the staff area and left through the door to the corridor leading to the kitchen. Anna needed a moment to breathe and to realize what had just happened. That man would be the end of her and she couldn’t explain why she smiled about it.

#sebastian sta #what happens in new york #part 4 #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x ofc

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echo-three-one · 4 years ago

Text

Good day tumblr.

I'm migrating to using google docs for writing and I found something I wrote that was unpublished.

It's like an OC x OC because I wrote this at the time I got invested in A LOT of contemporary romance books.

It's also NSFW, It is a one-shot and I don't know how I made that last sentence. I'm single since birth and maybe had a couple of girls in my life but never really made it together. Enjoy? I guess

Matt

I released yet another deep sigh as I tossed my controller on the couch. It has been two months since my heart got shattered but I still haven’t found the chance to move on. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to, that’s why my mind has been tormenting me ever since. Even my best bud gave up on me when after all those “conventional ways” he knew failed, evidenced by me still visiting her profile page every now and then. Heck, I even have her notifications of whenever she posts.

My phone vibrated and that specific ding means that it’s an Instagram post from her. Yes, call me crazy and all because I still am even after all this time. She posted a picture of a plane ticket and a passport to whoever knows where, it’s one of those photos that didn’t contain her face, meaning, it’s a personal and unsponsored post and it’s something she wants to express. See, I’m still clearly not over her. I groan in frustration and threw my phone beside the controller, as I slide down from the couch down to the floor like a kid who didn’t get the toy he wanted for Christmas. I lazily reached for the tub of ice cream on the coffee table beside me and looked at it, it’s half melted and sad, Just like me. I got up and brought back the sad dessert to my refrigerator and as soon as I got back, I saw myself on the mirror. Fuck, I looked horrible, my hair was a bird’s nest and my beard grew thicker each day. I’m actually glad my work doesn’t involve me showing up in an office because, I could get used to this look, I wanted the world to see how broken I am right now, I wanted her to see what happened to me. I surveyed around the room, it was a mess. Empty beer bottles sprawled over the living room, while chips were all opened and half eater on every chair of the room. The only good thing is that the mess only accumulated on one specific room, I don’t sleep on my bed anymore because I could still smell her on the sheets, and I never wanted that to leave.

A few more days passed and I finally did something not involving gloating: I ordered a cleaning service for the living room and specifically told them not to touch any other room. The past days reminded me that there’s more to life than her and I actually went outside today, grabbing my camera and slipping on my trusted hoodie which I use for work, I let the cleaning team fix my mess as I unwind by doing what I am really passionate about, taking pictures.

My best friend, Patrick, was actually proud of my decision, wishing he could support me but was stuck in his wife’s family gathering. I felt guilty that I didn’t talk to him the past months as I gloated, hearing someone who actually cares for me was a good feeling, especially after locking myself from the world after a miserable break-up.

As soon as I got to the park, I started taking simple pictures, flowers, children playing, flowing streams, and skyscrapers. It actually feels good to be back outside, seeing the beauty of the world not from a glass screen. I flipped through my camera roll and examined each photo I took. They really weren’t that good, but mixed with a nice back story, It could be a killer post. I chuckled as I rotate the dial of my camera and went a little too far back and I froze in the middle of the park. It was a picture of me and Bianca, my ex-girlfriend, whom I missed so much. It was taken on a gazebo at the park we visited back then and a 7 year old kid took the photo, We were travelling around so if the two of us were In a photo, it means we asked someone to take it for us. The said photo was where I saw myself smile the widest. She was wrapping her arms around me from behind and my eyes were closed, smiling while she was looking at me and laughing.

A single drop fell on the screen and I woke back to my senses, did I just cry? I looked around and saw children running about as I looked up into the sky and saw dark clouds forming. So much for going outside…

That evening, I actually had the inspiration to work. With the storm brewing up outside, sending tendrils of lightning across the sky, I decided that It was the perfect set-up to get something done. Hours flew by as I managed my schedules and checked my e-mails letting my clients know that I was alive and just hit a rough patch. I didn’t even realized that my entry got nominated on a competition I signed up for earlier that year, which was probably the little ray of sunlight on my gloomy skies. Just this evening, I managed to book 3 photo sessions for next week, which might give me something to get busy on while I do the inevitable: moving on.

Later that night, my phone buzzed a familiar tone. She was calling me. Rubbing the sleep off my eyes, and making sure I’m not dreaming, I hurriedly grabbed my phone. It’s her photo. She. Is. Actually. Calling. Me.

My heart sped up and I took deep breaths. I’m not dumb. I’m going to pretend I’m over her. I’m doing this for myself.

“Hello?” I croaked.

“Hello! Is this you Matt?” her voice reignited my mind. Shit. My mind went blank.

“Uh.. Yes. This is Matt. Who is .. Who is this?” I stuttered. I’m not a great pretender, but I did my best.

“This is Bianca, your uh.. friend. We’re still friends right?” she chuckles, the sound of an intercom could be heard from behind. As I thought, she’s in an airport.

“Oh. Of course, Bianca, we are.” I scoffed. Yeah. Friends. Would it hurt you to say we’re at least ex lovers?

“Listen, um.. I badly need your help. I’m at the airport right now and they canceled my flight due to the storm. I was about to look for nearby hotels but there’s a concert right now that filled up the rooms fast. Do you mind if I stay in there for a while?” my breathing sped up. No way, she’s spending the night here?

“Oh sure sure. I’ll come pick you up there, just wait for me..” I stuttered and ended the call, so much for being able to move on, I managed to make a fool of myself yet again. Without any more hesitations, I quickly prepared myself and drove to the airport.

Bianca

“I won’t regret it.” I whispered one last time as I sat on the waiting area by the entrance, hugging my phone close as I breathed out a heavy sigh. I can’t believe I’m in this situation, it’s like fate wanted me to give Matt a proper farewell, the one with no vague explanations and quick goodbyes. I closed my eyes and braced myself as sooner or later I’d be facing him. He sounded fine over the phone, except he felt nervous.. and hesitating. Maybe he’s busy and he has to make quick changes so he could cater to me. He shouldn’t, but knowing him, he would. Everyone who knows Matt knows he’s very accommodating.

“Bianca..” a voice whispered in front of me as I opened my eyes.. Matt stood there, with an umbrella open and another one hanging on his hand. He offered his other umbrella and carried my luggage behind me. I can’t help but wonder how he’s holding up and the longer I wonder, the more shy I become knowing that I caused a part of this change. Last time I saw him, he was this slightly chubby, always freshly shaven and a smile never leaves his face. Now, he looked like he lost a couple of pounds and he hasn’t shaved in days as his stubble grew around his mouth, and he’s not fooling me with that fake smile he plastered on his face. He should know that I could see through that smile of his.

I started to feel nervous as I entered his car, although nothing much changed, the consistency bothered me a lot. It felt the same when we were together, the smell, the same things in his dashboard and even these dust settling on the floor. Did he not use his car ever since? I shouldn’t be bothered by this, but I can’t help but be curious as to what he was up to all these months.

I admired how Matt handled this situation maturely, he kept casual on his questions, evading everything that would lead to the events of two months ago. I took the chance to ask how he was doing and surprisingly, he answered quickly that he took a lot of photo sessions and how he got nominated on some indie photography award. At least that talk shook off the worry that was growing in me and gave me hope that this night will turn out great rather than a disaster.

As soon as we walked into his room, he talked about how I should feel at home since I am his guest. He talked so nonchalant it felt like he rehearsed what he said, I tried to ignore his emotionless introduction as he led me to his bedroom, I glanced around and noticed that nothing really changed during my time here, and it probably means that he’s holding up pretty well. He settled my luggage beside the bed and he grabbed a pillow and some comforters, and single-handedly carried it outside.

“I’ll be sleeping by the couch if you need something. I mean, you probably know your way around, Good Night, Bianca.” he says as he slowly shut the door, leaving me alone in his room. I slowly plopped myself into his comfortable sheets and tried to shut my eyes, but I can’t help but smell my old shampoo in his pillow. Slightly bothered, I got up and took a whiff at the pillow and realized it was my smell, I quickly grabbed the other one and caught a whiff of Matt’s scent on it. He probably doesn’t use the whole bed when he sleeps, I thought to myself, dismissing any other thoughts and tried to sleep. I shifted positions every other minute until I couldn't take it anymore. I grew curious until the point that I wanted to confront him about it. It looks like the talk we’ve both been evading should happen.

Matt

I fluffed my pillows one last time and glanced at my bedroom door for the last time. She’s in there. I muttered to myself. I wanted to talk to her one last time, maybe ask some questions and say what I feel… But that won’t happen tonight, she has a lot of things on her plate right now and has to deal with rebooking a cancelled flight, I should probably stay out of her way. I heard the door creak and I quickly got up and locked my eyes on her, as she peeks at the door.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“I’m just going to get some water.” She replied as he walked to the kitchen, I can't help but let my eyes follow her as she carefully moved to the fridge. She was wearing her favorite pajamas, pink with flower prints sprawled everywhere. I smiled as our gazes met.

“Feeling comfy?” I asked.

“Yeah, what about you?” She nodded and nudged toward my direction.

“Yes.” I replied shifting comfortably on my couch, grinning like a little kid. She let out a soft chuckle and entered back to the room. I smiled as she shut the door and drifted myself to sleep.

The cold burst of air crossed against my foot and made me shiver, this wasn’t supposed to happen, did I forget to close the windows? I slowly got up and looked around, I wasn’t dreaming, my ex is still here. I peeked at the balcony and saw her staring at the moon, I saw that she scratched the pajamas and is now wearing possibly only her underwear behind that silk robe, a robe she got when she competed that one competition overseas.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked her as I offered a mug of warm milk. She looked surprised and a faint blush on her face formed as it was illuminated by the moonlight.

“Actually, yeah. Just thinking of what’s ahead.” She smiled as she grabbed the mug, wrapping it with her hands and blowing the steam away and taking a sip. “You?”

“You opened the balcony and the cold breeze kinda made me shiver.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry.” She bowed and chuckled softly. “I never knew you were that sensitive to cold.”

“Well, I wasn’t until…” I answered while I looked down on myself, emphasizing how loose my shirt was.

“Oh.. I noticed that. What happened? You hit the gym? Oh, you’re trying to impress someone! Do tell!” she asked grabbing my shirt, I could feel the shakiness in her reply, as if it was invading uncharted territory.

I sighed. “I can’t lie to you… I didn’t really want to bring this up but… I forgot to eat. When you left… You can forget that detail. I just want this off my chest, that’s all.” My heart pounded through my chest as I told her.

She pursed her lips and averted her gaze elsewhere. “I’m sorry about that…” she said but I shushed her mouth with my index finger. “You don’t have to… It’s my fault.” I said, trying to save her from recalling what she did. I didn’t want that, I wanted her to know that I’ve been trying. I continued talking, I told her about the things I learned from her, and that I was willing to move forward with my life, I wanted her to keep the details of our break up to herself, so I could evaluate on myself and become a better person. Lastly, I told her that I still loved her up to this very moment, and how it might take a while for it to slowly fade away.

A tear fell from the corner of her eye and I wiped It off with my thumb as I cupped her soft warm cheeks, her hands slowly grabbed mine and slowly guided it to her heart, I felt it pound and of course, I felt her soft breasts as she let me feel it.

“I’m still at fault for letting you go like that… I didn’t even consider how it’d affect you…” her voice croaked and I can’t help but embrace her and rub her back.

“I guess, it’s just like that sometimes, Bianca. Words don’t need to explain everything.” I whispered to her ear as I slowly accepted that we were never getting back together. I have lost the war for her heart and at least I did it with her wrapped around my arms.

She then looked up to me, reaching her arms on my cheek, gently rubbing my stubble. She then pulled my face close to hers as our lips met each other. I hesitated at first, but I’m only human and I still loved her, so as I felt her tongue beg to enter me, I tilted my head and wrapped my tongue against her, tasting her again possibly for the last time. I gripped her waist, slowly sliding my hand to her ass and held it tight pulling her body close to me. This action made her moan while she was inside my mouth and I closed my eyes wishing this moment would never end. Bianca quickly hoisted herself toward me and wrapped her legs on my hips which led me off balance. I quickly regained composure as I blindly led her to the couch and we both crashed on it while she was straddling on my lap.

We almost never had the time for sex, it was either she was too tired or I was and most of the time, she's away for trainings. If I was given the chance to rate all of our sexy moments together, this was possibly one of the best, yet it also is one of the worst, as it was the last one. Our make out session was full of soft kisses on every angle possible, smacking sounds echoed across the room along with soft pants and groans escaping from our mouths. My hands clung on to her ass most of the time, slowly rubbing her soft ass cheeks and stretching it outward during long kisses. She didn't stop me, so I started kissing her chest area as I let her perky nipples peek through her bra.

All I got from her is a smile and a sparkle in her eye saying 'go ahead' and I began to suck it and lick around her nipples, her soft moans felt rewarding as her hand guides my free hand to play with the other one. I hungrily sucked on both her nipples, changing course quickly, giving each of her breasts undivided attention. This went on for quite a while, until she moved back and pushed me back, her hand trailed through my chest, teasingly grazing through my nipples and slid down to my stomach, gripping the hem of my shirt and pulling it upward. All I did was oblige and she lifted my shirt off and tossed it behind her. She then left my chest and grabbed my shoulders, guiding me to rest my back on the couches' arm rest as she crawled towards me, giving my chest a soft kiss, slowly trailing down just below my belly button. Her eyes looked at me and our gazes met, she smiled menacingly as she grips my cock through my pants and slowly rubs it. I let out short and fast pants as she slowly yanked my pants down while I quickly pulled it off my feet and kicked it away.

Her index finger slowly circled around my shaft as she spread my precum around it and moved her mouth and began to devour it whole. My mind began to blur as I let out a huge sigh, my hand moved her hair and tucked it behind her ear. Her warm tongue welcomed my cock as it licked the shaft like an ice cream cone, then started circling around it finishing her act by going deeper into her mouth. Fuck, I wanted to cum so bad but I shouldn't, so as soon as I felt it drawing close, I yanked her hair up. She didn't flinch. I was expecting her to be mad at me, but all she did was flash a wide grin on her face and all I could ever do is slowly get up and quickly push her to the other side of the couch and pin her.

I pressed my whole body into her and my hand quickly unclasped her bra, setting her impressively huge tits free. Grabbing her breast, I quickly leaned into her mouth and kissed her angrily, growling inside her as our tongues clashed inside each other. My hand slowly let go of her chest and my mouth slowly trailed down to her dripping wet pussy, angrily pulling her panties down and tossed it behind me. I started playing with her pussy by giving it soft licks, my tongue barely touching her inner senses, then I applied a little bit pressure, followed by steady repeated licks on one area while my fingers spread open her labia.

I stopped and guided her to sit on the couch properly as I sat next to her, spreading her legs wide and let my fingers enter her, feeling the warmth and tightness of her pussy. I stopped a moan from escaping her mouth as I kissed her while my hands played inside her. I picked up the pace and all she could do was pant and cup my face, letting me kiss her as she moans inside my mouth while I continue to pleasure her using my fingers. I grinned at her and kissed her tits, my heart racing as I felt her getting excited at the effect I have on her right now.

"Oh. My. Fuck. Matt." she moaned in between pants, her voice quavered giving me the motivation to move my fingers faster, as I hear the sound of her pussy and my fingers compliment each other. She arched her back as I steadily pleasured my mouth on her right breast.

"So good.." she whimpered as I felt her wetness in my fingers and moved my lips back to hers, my fingers now moved slowly inside her. She panted and straddled herself on my lap, facing me with lust sparklin on her eyes as she gripped my cock and guided it slowly in her. Her wetness easily drenched my shaft as my mind went hazy when she quickly sat on my cock, letting out a soft yelp as she bounced on top of me. She started it slowly, letting us moan 'haa' at different intervals, as she circles her hips while slowly sitting on my cock. All I could do was open my mouth in pleasure, while looking at her maneuvering my cock like a cowgirl.

My mind will never forget this memory of her, riding on my cock and her tits bouncing in front of me while I held onto her waist. Ever since she picked up her pace, our soft 'haa's turned into loud 'aah's as the sound her ass clapping with my thighs rang on my ears. She continued to bounce as she leaned forward to me, letting our foreheads meet and eyes steadily lock in each other.

"Holy shit, you're still amazing." I whispered and all she could reply was a kiss, another long kiss while my hips met with her bounces. I felt my orgasm close, so I broke the kiss to warn her. "I'm about to c-" she cut me off with another kiss, as I felt my cock release waves of hot cum inside her, feeling her tighten me as we slowly ease the pace until it stopped. As soon as I pulled my cock, I saw her pussy drip down my cum, a smile escaping my face while I pant.

"I guess this is goodbye?" I whispered as I asked her for one last kiss, and she obliged, giving me the closure I needed to move on. Funny story is, we had more steamy sex after that, in the kitchen, on the bed and even on the floor, I even sneaked into her while she showered. But at the end of the day, I managed to delete her name from my contacts, along with unsubscribing on her notifications and washing the sheets she used to sleep on. Later that day, I looked at the sky as her plane flew past the building and took a deep breath. I guess first love never dies, but then again not all first loves are not meant for you.

#horRAYfic #suggest a title #yeouch

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